


Here, There, Everywhere

by parkeratheart



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Adorability, Adorable, Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie) Spoilers, Comfort, Crying, Cute, Cute Peter Parker, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Hugs, Humour, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Mild Language, No Flow, OOC in some chapters, One-Shot Collection, One-Shots, Peter Parker Gets a Hug, Swearing, Sweet, Tears, Tony Likes To Embarrass Peter, Tony Stark Gets a Hug, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Wanda Maximoff is a Good Bro, adding tags as I go, cuteness, not starker ew
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-03
Updated: 2019-02-07
Packaged: 2019-06-21 00:23:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 22
Words: 25,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15545517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/parkeratheart/pseuds/parkeratheart
Summary: (PREVIOUSLY CALLED "SOME WINGS AREN'T MEANT TO FLY")A one-shot series of a story.Some may be cute.Some may be heart wrenching asf.Who knows?(Also, there is no set publication dates. I just kinda publish whenever i get an idea and write about it, and that might take a while sometimes)





	1. Don't Scare Me Like That Again (AKA Shot)

Patrolling was _so difficult_ lately.

Peter wasn’t sure why.

Every time he curled in his fingers towards the inside of his wrist to shoot a web, or jerked his arm back to swing on one, or even release the web, it felt wrong. Like he wasn’t supposed to be doing it after what happened on Cony Island and the plane.

He was so sure Tony would never forgive him for trashing a plane that probably costed a fortune. He was so sure he’d take away his homemade suit so he’d never even have a chance to be Spider-Man again.

But then Tony went and surprised him by offering him a place on the Avengers.

Which Peter declined.

No way in hell was he ready for that.

Today on patrolling, his skeptical thought of joining the Avengers was sealed.

The New York air was cold and icy in late January. Peter had zero idea how to activate the heater that Tony had installed in his suit, so he rang up Karen.

“Hey, Karen. Can you turn on the heater, please?” he asked the AI whilst leaping from an apartment building.

“Sure thing, Peter,” Karen’s robotic voice responded, and a whoosh of warmth swept over Peter’s body. He breathed a sigh of comfort and landed on the edge of a skyscraper. He let the warmth of the heater shallow this breathing and relax his muscles.

The comfort didn’t last long.

“Peter, there is a mugging happening on the south-west side of the city,” Karen informed. “Plotting course.” She paused for a moment and then a map appeared at the corner of the suit’s vision.

“On my way, Karen.”

Peter shot a web at the building to the south-west of where he was standing and followed Karen’s map’s directions.

The mugger was a tall, middle-aged man. He was threatening a lady in a plushy winter jacket with a simple black pistol. He was shouting something along the lines of ‘Give me your wallet!’

Peter landed gracefully in between the two of them. “You shouldn’t point guns at people. It’s not nice.” Sometimes, it was impossible to refrain from cracking jokes. Peter didn’t hesitate to lift his hands to shoot his webs. “Put down the gun, please.”

“Get out of my way,” the guy’s low, scratchy voice commanded, his finger hovering over the trigger. When he pulled it, Peter easily dodged the bullet. It was a typical mugger’s shot. At his chest. Peter almost watched the bullet pass by him without feeling the slightest amount of fear.

Almost.

Because the guy shot again.

Peter dodged it again but it just about got him in the shoulder. The woman behind him was crying out of fear. Her sobs rake through Peter’s chest. He wished that he didn’t look back at her to make sure she wasn’t hit by one of the bullets he dodged. She wasn’t, which was great.

What _wasn’t_ great was the sudden burst of pain coming from Peter’s right side. He doubled over onto one knee and pressed his hand against where the pain was coming from. If adrenaline wasn’t coursing through his body like acid, the pain would have been more, well, painful.

“Not cool, man,” Peter grunted, shooting a web at the guy, gluing him against the brick wall of the alley. The gun dropped from his hand and clattered on the ground.

The woman sprinted out of the alley without bothering to look back.

“Yeah, don’t thank me or anything,” Peter called after her. “I’ll manage without that. I just saved your life!”

She didn’t even look back.

_Fantastic._

Peter removed his hand from the wound. His gloved hand was completely red. The pain was starting to become more prominent. Peter attempted to stand up, but a huge zap of pain shot through his entire side. What was worse, the pain didn’t wear off.

Hot tears burned in Peter’s eyes and he felt his lip quivering.

“Peter, it appears you’ve been shot,” Karen said. “You should get medical attention immediately.”

“M’ fine K’ren . . .” Peter slurred, pressing both his hands over the bullet hole and leaned against the alley wall. He took in gulps of air and his breath came out heavy. His lip trembled and his eyes burned as he tried to hold back any tears of pain that were threatening to spill. He could not, however, hold back a cry of pain that echoed through the alley when another burst of pain shot through his side, not letting up either.

“Peter, you’re in distress,” Karen warned. “I’m going to contact Mr. Stark now.”

“Not him!” Peter cried. _No no no no! I can't have him see me like this!_

“I’m not programmed to adhere to that request,” Karen said, and Tony’s contact picture and a text box that read ‘calling’ appeared on the screen.

Another cry came out from Peter’s mouth.

The pain was not going away.

“Peter? Is everything okay?” came Tony’s voice from inside his mask.

“Mr. Stark!” Peter cried breathlessly, unable to suck back a tear that ran down his face.

“Whoa, Pete. You sound distressed. What’s wrong?” Tony asked, his voice full of concern.

“I can make it to the tower on my own,” Peter said, trying to stand again, but crumbled back to the alley floor with a shout of pain.

“What the fuck, Peter? I’m coming to your location right now. Don’t move.”

“No, it’s okay! I’m fine!” Peter tried to tell him, but the call was already over. Raising his arm with a twinge of pain from his side, Peter shot a web and pulled himself onto the building that was on the right side of the alley. He collapsed to his hands and knees once he made it up.

Yanking off his mask, more tears poured from his eyes. He kept crying out in pain, knowing no one could hear him. His breathing was even more heavy and hard than before. His shifted his gaze to the bullet hole. The material around it was soaked red here inches in already. The bullet hole didn’t have an exit hole, which meant surgery was going to be needed. Peter cried out when he pressed his hands over it to try to keep the bleeding at bay.

The familiar whoosh of the Iron Man suit filled his ears, followed by the sound of the face-plate opening. “Holy shit! Peter, what happened?”

Peter just shook his head. He couldn’t respond through the pain and squeezed his eyes shut.

“Hang in there, I’m going to get you to the tower.” Peter felt a metallic arm slide under his knees and his back rested against another one. He cried out at the sudden movement. The breeze on his face must have meant he was in the air, but he was in too much pain to open his eyes and look.

They were only in the air for about ten minutes before Tony shot through the door and screamed for Bruce. Peter heard the scientist ask Tony what happened before he blacked out.

\--------

When he found Peter on the rooftop bleeding uncontrollably from his side and tears on his face, Tony felt the most scared he’d ever felt.

“Bruce! Get your ass over here!” he shouted, flying through the doors to the building. His voice cracked.

Bruce sprinted into the room. “What happened?”

“I don’t know!” Tony exclaimed. He looked down at the teenager in his arms. “Peter? Oh god, buddy, don’t pass out on me!” Too late. He was already out.

He flew to the Medbay as fast as possible and deposited Peter onto the cot Bruce had prepared.

“Looks like he was shot,” Bruce inferred.

Tony’s heart sank. _Shot?_

“There’s no exit wound, so I’m going to have to get the bullet out,” Bruce said. “I’ll sedate him, but I’m not sure how long we’re going to have before is metabolism burns through it.” Tony didn’t have to respond. Bruce got a needle ready and stick it into Peter’s arm. The teenager twitched but didn’t wake up.

The process of removing the bullet wasn’t long. It wasn’t short enough hat Peter’s metabolism kicked out the sedation Bruce had injected him with, so that was good.  
_Please don’t die on me, kid,_ Tony pleaded, unshed tears in his eyes. _Please don’t leave me._

It wasn’t until Peter’s eyes opened after an hour that Tony breathed normally. “Kid!” he exclaimed breathlessly, standing up from the chair he was sitting in. “How are you feeling? Are you in pain? Rate your pain on a scale of 1 to 10.”

“Uh . . .” Peter muttered. “L’ke a six m’be?”

“What was it before?” Tony pushed.

“I d’nno, l’ke a nine?” Peter slurred, blinking his eyes tiredly.

Tony grabbed a hold of Peter’s hand. He wanted to get mad at him. He wanted to scorn him for getting shot and scaring the living daylights out of Tony. But, he needed to know what happened, and getting mad wasn’t going to do anything. If anything, it might make things worse. “What happened, kid?”

“Th’r wuzza m’gg’ng an’ I went to h’lp the lady an’ he shot m’side when I looked at her,” Peter said, his head slumping back against the pillow. “M’sorry I made you w’rry.”

“Don’t apologize,” Tony said, gripping Peter’s hand.

“M’kay, sorry,” was all Peter said before closing his eyes.

Oh, kid, Tony sympathized, releasing the kid’s hand. The second he did, Peter’s eyes shot open and he cried out in pain.

\----------

The pain was fucking back. More alive than ever, since all of the adrenaline had exited Peter’s body.

His hands flew to the bullet wound, which Bruce had covered with a sterile strip of gauze.

“Make it stop!” Peter shrieked. Any other time, he would be embarrassed by how high his voice went. But now all he could think about was the excruciating pain. Tears sprung into his eyes. _Ow. Ow ow ow._

“Bruce!” Tony shouted at the scientist.

“The pain killers wore off,” Bruce informed calmly, injecting a syringe into Peter’s arm swiftly. Peter almost instantly relaxed and flopped back onto the cot, breathing heavily. The tears in his eyes ran down his temples and into his hairline.

“You’re okay,” Tony soothed, holding Peter’s hand again. “You’re okay.”

“M’gonna sit up,” Peter declared, shifting in the cot.

“Don’t—” Bruce started to say, but Peter was already sitting upright in the cot.

Peter met Tony’s eyes. He wanted something from him right now, but wasn’t exactly sure how to say it. “Misser Stark?”

“Afraid so,” Tony said, and was pleased to get a giggle from Peter.

“C-can I have a hug?”

 _Stupid, stupid! He doesn’t want to fucking hug you! We’re not there yet,_ Peter cursed himself, clenching his fists and looking away. Tony looked for a moment like he was about to break down right there.

They met eyes again.

Tony smiled sadly and soon, Peter was wrapped in a warm embrace. Tony gave nice hugs. There was affection in this, too. Tony almost seemed like he wanted it as well. Peter relaxed completely, letting Tony support most of his weight.

“Don’t ever scare me like that again,” Tony whispered.

“M’kay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First chapter done! BOOM.  
> Sorry Peter had to get hurt in this one. 
> 
> Hope you enjoyed <3


	2. Mario Kart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one isn't going to hurt at all!

It had taken a while to convince Tony that they needed a WiiU at the compound, but he eventually caved in. No one could resist Peter’s puppy-dog eyes.

The WiiU was in the massive living room, connecting to the huge flat-screen TV sitting atop a mirrored table. Right in front of it was a big fluffy sheepskin rug that the people who didn’t make it to the white couch would sit on. Which usually ended up being Clint, Sam, and Wanda. They didn’t seem to care, though.

Mario Kart was a game that came with the WiiU, so Tony didn’t consider buying anymore. Peter was a pro at Mario Kart, so he was excited to show off.

He found out, however, when he raced Clint, that Clint was an expert as well.

“Hey!” Peter exclaimed when Clint hit him with a green shell. “How did you even hit me with that? You’re in like third place!”

“First place,” Clint corrected, shaking his remote so he’d do a flip over a jump. “And what can I say? Being a master at archery makes you a aster at shooting green turtle shells at spiders FUCK!!” he suddenly shouted when he hit a banana.

“Language!” Steve (omigod it’s Captain America) warned and at the same time Tony snapped, “There are children present!”

“I heard him swear at the airport,” Clint announced, tossing a banana peel behind him and Peter chuckled when it hit one of the CPUs.

When the race was over (Clint in 2nd Place and Peter in 1st), Wanda asked if she could play against Sam, who raised an eyebrow like he wasn’t expecting it.

Clint shrugged and handed the controller to Wanda and Peter gave his to Sam. Wanda chose Daisy as the character she wanted, saying something about their hair colour being similar or whatever.

“Daisy is a pretty good character,” Peter said.

“Good! Then I shall kick his ass,” Wanda declared.

“You just try,” Sam challenged.

Sam was as bad as Clint when it came to swearing. He swore when Wanda hit him with a red shell and when he hit a banana peel, which sent Tony shout ‘Sam!’ at him twice. Sam didn’t even acknowledge Tony’s complaints.

Peter personally didn’t mind the swearing, but he didn’t tell Tony that because he thought it was really funny.

In the end, Wanda did kick Sam’s ass. She came 1st place while Sam crossed the finish line with a lousy 5th. Steve cheered for her and everyone else had grins on their faces. It was so nice seeing everyone together and happy when they weren’t even on a mission.

“I was distracted,” Sam grumbled.

“By what?” Wanda questioned with a proud smirk on her face.

“Ahh . . . your character. She’s almost as pretty as you.” Peter knew Sam was just saying that to have a reason to be distracted that would satisfy Wanda, but everyone knew that Wanda was really pretty.

She smiled and a faint blush rose on her cheeks. “Who wants to go next?” she asked the group.

Steve jumped up and grabbed the controller from Wanda’s hand before anyone else took it. Tony shrugged and took Sam’s.

“Ooh, Captain America versus Iron Man!” Peter said. “This should be interesting!”

“Who’s the best character, Peter?” Steve asked, turning his head.

“Uh, I only really play as Mario, so I’m not sure,” Peter admitted.

“Then I’ll choose Mario.” He did and Tony got Yoshi.

It was pretty obvious that Steve was terrible at Mario Kart, as hard as he tried. He kept forgetting to drift around corners that were impossible to get around without drifting, falling over the edge at the most ridiculous times, and forgetting to avoid banana peels.

Tony was almost killing himself laughing.

“Shut up, Stark,” Steve muttered.

“BOOM! 1st place!” Tony exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air.

Steve was only on the start of the third lap in a measly 11th place. In the end, he crossed the line in 9th. “Which is still alright,” Peter tried to reassure.

Steve didn’t seem to care.

The next races consisted of Natasha versus Bruce and Bucky versus Rhodey. Natasha and Rhodey won. Like Steve, Bucky wasn’t the best with video games. He did claim that he played arcade games way back when.

“Like Pac Man?” Peter asked.

“That wasn’t out yet,” Bucky responded.

“Hey, Mr. Stark, can I play you?” Peter turned towards the billionaire.

“Sure.”

Tony, as Peter found out, was _really_ good. He hadn’t really been paying attention to Tony’s side of the screen when he played against Steve, because it was too funny watching Steve fail again and again.

Peter started to panic when on the third lap he was in 2nd and Tony held first place. There wasn’t that much distance between him and Tony, and Peter figured that, if he got some form of shell, could get by Tony and win.

The third lap was nearing the end when Peter went through a ? bubble. A red shell appeared in Mario’s hand. “Mr. Stark, I have a present for you!” He hit the forward button and the shell smashed into the back of Yoshi. Mario zoomed by, and just crossed the finish line in 1st place. The room erupted in cheers and Clint patted Peter on the back. Tony just stared at the screen in shock.

“Fucking red shells,” Peter heard him mutter under his breath. He instinctively threw his arms around the billionaire’s shoulders from the side. He worried for a second, just a second, that Tony didn’t want hugs, but Tony laughed and grabbed Peter’s arms with his hands.

“I’ll beat you on day,” Steve announced, which sent the room into hysterical laughter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love Mario Kart. I had a lot of fun writing this. Rosalina, in case anyone is interested, is m favourite character to use.  
> Thanks for reading!


	3. Take Me Down To The River (AKA Bridge Jumping)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is gonna be really cute :D

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyyyyyy. I know its been a bajillion years since I added a chapter in this one-shot series of a story. Enjoy lol

“Okay, wait, so I just jump?” Peter asked nervously, looking over the bridge to the deep, clear river water. Tony, Steve, and Wanda had convinced him to come to the river with them. At first, Peter was all for it. He liked swimming. He did. But what he was _not_ expecting was this river section that they went to being not so much of a ‘swimming’ hole but a ‘jumping-off-a-bridge’ hole.

Wanda walked up beside him. “It’s easy. Watch.” She swung her legs over the railing of the bridge and balanced like an acrobat on about five inches of wooden pillar supporting some of the bridge’s weight. She turned so she was facing Peter.

“Are you gonna do a _backflip?”_ asked Peter with disbelief.

“Yup,” she said cheerfully.

“I didn’t think you could, like, be athletic,” Peter said, and Wanda barked a laugh.

And with that, she bounced off the end and did a perfect backflip into the water below. She came up to the surface with a smile on her face and her long brown hair sticking to the sides of her neck and shoulders. “It’s fun!”

“You swing off of building all the time,” Tony quipped from the river’s edge. A stretchy t-shirt shaped swimsuit hugged his upper body and a pair of swim trunks dressed his bottom section. He refused to go shirtless like Steve.

_(“I didn’t get muscles with drugs like you, Steve,” Tony had said.)_

“But I have web-shooters, Tony,” Peter retorted, peering over the edge again. “I don’t, like, _fall.”_

Steve whispered something to Tony, who cracked up upon hearing it. Wanda must have picked it out of their minds, because she covered her mouth with her hand to stifle a giggle. Steve started to make his way towards the bridge.

“What are you- what are you doing?” Peter sputtered, his eyes moving with Steve.

“He’s gonna throw you off!” Tony shouted, cupping his hands around his mouth to emphasize the shout.

“No! No no no no!” Peter yelped, backing up. “I’ll do it, I’ll do it, I’ll do it!” He felt his heart pounding while he climbed over the railing and stood on the pillar like Wanda had. Steve was walking closer and closer, leaving a wet trail on the wood.

“I’ll count to three!” Wanda exclaimed, treading water. “It makes it easier that way.”

“No it doesn’t!” Peter said. “It’s peer pressure, Wanda.” She giggled, flashing her straight white teeth.

“I’ll tell you what, if you end up flipping over and are going to land on your head, I’ll turn you back around,” she shrugged.

Peter’s face paled. “If I _what?”_

Steve took a few steps closer.

“Stay back, beast!” Peter shrieked theatrically at Steve, who snorted and stepped closer. “Hey, what if I die?” Peter shouted at Tony.

“For the love of God, Peter, you’re Spider-Man,” he chuckled.

“You do it, then!” Peter shot back with a playful smile on his face.

“I’ll go after you,” Tony returned, crossing his arms. “I’ll only do it if you do it.”

Peter just stood frozen. _Man up, Peter. Come on._

“Alright, Steve. Throw him off.”

He must have slipped backing away from Steve or something, because the next thing Peter knew, he was plummeting towards the water. A moment before the water was close enough to touch, Peter felt a tug on his legs and he was vertical again. He silently thanked Wanda but was screaming on the outside.

Peter grabbed his nose right before hitting the water. A slight stinging burst in the bottoms of his feet from the impact, but otherwise it was painless. Peter’s swim trunks sucked against him when he was underwater. He flailed his arms around, clawing his way to the surface. Upon breaching, his curly hair hung in his eyes like curtains. Peter dragged his hands up to brush them away and was greeted with Wanda killing herself laughing. Tony was on his knees laughing at the shore and Steve was supporting his weight with the railings as his whole body shook with it.

“That was **not cool,** Steve!” Peter exclaimed up at him, treading water in front of Wanda. Steve didn’t respond through his laughter.

“How . . . how was that?” Tony tried to say, wiping tears from his eyes and started chuckling two seconds after.

Peter responded by moving his hands up and sending a wave of water at the billionaire. That shut up his laughter right away. For a moment, Peter was worried that Tony would be mad, since his jaw was basically touching the ground and he wasn’t moving, a huge patch of water seeping into his swim wear. But a smile quickly embedded itself in the man’s face.

“You’re in for it!” he shouted, and stood knee deep in the water, splashing his arms on the surface, getting Peter’s hair in his face again.

“Time out, time out! I can’t see!” Peter tried to get his hair out of his eyes again, but it kept getting back. Tony wasn’t letting up.

“That’s what happens when you splash Iron Man!” Tony exclaimed.

For a second, the splashing subsided and Peter pushed his hair out of his face, finding out that Tony only stopped because Wanda had sent water his way with her magic. “That’s _cheating!”_ Tony gasped.

“So?” she challenged, repeating her hand motion.

Then Steve shouted _‘cannonball!’_ and they were all swamped by the colossal (and kind of impressive like whoa) wave that send Peter’s hair into his face again. Soon, they were just having a grand old time. Peter wasn’t sure what made splashing the Avengers funny, but he was sent into hysterical laughter at their reactions from some of the big ones.

“Are you going to jump without Steve’s encouragement, Peter?” Wanda asked breathlessly after they’d decided to stop drenching each other in water, which was a good twenty minutes later. Her chest was heaving with exhaustion, but she had a huge smile plastered on her face.

Peter shot a look at Steve, who snorted along with Tony. “I don’t know.”

Suddenly, his feet left the ground and red magic swirled around his body, sending him to the top of the bridge. The sun seemed to be smiling down at them, since the rays from it were pretty hot at this time of day. A small breeze ruffled Peter’s swim trunks.

Peter was placed on the wooden pillar again. He grasped the railing desperately, pressing his forehead against the beams.

“Are you afraid of heights?” Steve asked, with surprising gentleness in his voice.

“What? No!” Peter denied, turning around with his hands still gripping the railing. “Of course not. I’ve just never jumped off a bridge when it was _my choice.”_ He emphasized the last words and sent Steve and Tony into a giggle fit. Peter sighed and shook his head, not sure what was so funny about Steve making him fall off a bridge into the river.

“How do I do this?” Peter asked nervously, staring at the water below.

“You just do it, Peter,” Wanda said.

“Right, right,” he whispered, not sure if anyone could hear. He could not stop the shaking in his legs. “You kind of feel that, like _WHOOP_ in your stomach,” he demonstrated by doubling over with his hands on his stomach, “and that like _THUMP_ in your heart,” he said, slapping the right side of his chest.

“Nice onomatopoeia,” Tony chuckled.

“Onomato _what?”_ Wanda said, confused and Steve chuckled.

 _You live once,_ whispered Peter’s mind.

And then he jumped. Once in the air, he quite liked the rush of adrenaline. The wind whipping through his wet hair and swim trunks felt cool. Gravity sent him plunging into the river, just brushing the rocks on the bottom with his feet. He pushed off them and broke the surface, rewarded by applause from the peanut gallery on the shore.

“Thank you, thank you,” Peter said dramatically, doing tiny bows with his hands. “Very much appreciated.”

“See, it wasn’t so bad!” said Steve.

“Yeah, I guess so.” Peter felt kind of embarrassed from being such a big baby. It was fun, not like he’d ever admit that to them. He tried to stop a blush from rising in his cheeks by dunking underwater and swimming towards the shore. “Now you have to go,” he said to Tony upon reaching the shore.

“Fuck, that’s right,” Tony muttered. He turned to Steve. “Don’t you dare throw me off.”

“You’re _scaaaaaared,”_ Peter taunted, sticking his bottom lip out in an exaggerated pout.

Tony was about to retort when Wanda sent him to the top of the bridge with a quick swipe of her hands.

“Get your magic nonsense off me!” Tony commanded after his feet touched the pillar.

“Should I push him off?” Peter whispered, leaning over to Steve, his eyes not leaving Tony.

“Oh my gosh, _yes,”_ Steve approved, trying his best to stifle laughter.

Wanda bit her lip to keep from chuckling and sent Peter to the top of the bridge.

“Parker,” Tony warned, turning his head towards Peter, who dramatically crept his way towards the billionaire. “What are you doing?”

“Hmm? Me? Nooothing . . .” Peter giggled and slowly made his way towards Tony’s form.

“You touch me and I swear to god I’m going to—”

“Oh are you?” Peter challenged, not within arm’s reach. “Are you really?” With a shove of his arms to Tony’s shoulders, the man tumbled over the pillar, landing with a smack on his side.

“Oh shit,” Peter said, covering his mouth. “That looked like it hurt.” He kind of got worried for a second but it faded when Tony’s head poked out of the water. A look of pure shock had implanted itself in Tony’s perfectly shaven face, but a smile was tugging at the corner of his lips.

“Send me up, Wanda,” he said to the girl. She shrugged and Tony was quickly standing behind Peter. Without a beat of hesitation, Peter was grabbed from behind in Tony’s surprisingly strong arms and his feet lifted from the wood.

“What are you doing?” Peter asked, squirming in the man’s grip, laughing, but Tony remained a firm hold.

“Throwing you off,” Tony said casually, walking towards the rail.

“What?!” Peter shrieked, now writhing in Tony’s hold, but the billionaire kept his grasp and was now standing right in front of the rail. “Lemme go!”

“I can’t just let you get away with pushing me. That would be extremely out of character.” He cleared his throat and swung Peter towards the water in his arms. “One . . .” Swing.

“Mr. Stark!” Peter shrilled, his stomach hurting from laughter.

“Two . . .” Swing.

“Don’t you dare!”

“Three!”

And with that, Peter was launched into the air. Right before falling past eye-level with Tony, Peter made eye contact with the man and saw a huge smile on his face and he was covering his mouth as Wanda had done to keep his laughter contained. Then Peter fell past. He managed to straighten himself out to be vertical and landed in the water like a pencil on its eraser.

The hysterical laughter started up once more.

At the end of the day, you could say that a huge ab workout went into this from the sheer amount of laughter that probably scared away any birds that were lingering.

“We can come back here sometime, right?” Peter asked Tony from the backseat of the billionaire’s Audi next to Wanda, who was doing something on her phone.

Tony smiled at him in the rear-view window. “Of course, kid.” Peter returned the smile.

“I’m going to throw Tony in to get him back, don’t worry,” Steve whispered to Peter, certainly loud enough for everyone to hear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I wrote this after my dad took me to a river where I could jump off a bridge. It was really fun but Peter is right. You do feel that WHOOP in your chest and that THUMP in your heart XD. This was so fun to write. My dad didn't actually throw me off the bridge, nor did I push him, but I thought it would be cute to add that ;)
> 
> Comments and kudos are always appreciated.
> 
> Oh and I just watched one of Tom Holland's old movies "the Impossible". It's a really good movie but it completely SHATTERS my heart to watch him cry :'(


	4. The Time You Have (AKA Comfort)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just when i thought I couldn't make things any fluffier...

Peter knew about Wanda’s brother Pietro. He knew that he’d died to protect Clint. She’d lost someone close to her, just like Peter had. By the same weapon too, which Peter thought was kind of ironic.

Today was a tough day.

A third-year anniversary for Uncle Ben’s death. Peter had a horrid nightmare about it the previous night in vivid detail. Blood seeping into his uncle’s soft grey shirt. Peter still remembered what that shirt felt like. It was so soft. If a fluffy puppy’s softness was a shirt, that’s what it could be. Ben’s face the second he got shot that would haunt the teenager forever. It was a look of pure shock. His mouth was hanging open and his pupils were dilated and his eyes were open wide. Then his eyelids dropped over Ben’s eyes and he crumpled to the ground in a heavy heap.

Peter found Wanda in her room.

He knew she coped with the weight of her brother’s death fairly well. That or she built up a strong wall and kept everything inside.

He really needed some advice with how to cope.

“Wanda?” he said in a quiet voice, knocking softly on the door. Hot tears burned his eyes.

“Just a second!” came her feminine voice and a moment later the door opened. She was wearing skinny ripped jeans and a loose-fitted black t-shirt. Her long hair was pulled back into a half-up half-down look with pieces out by the top of her head to frame her face. She was smiling, but it almost immediately faded when she made eye contact. Her form was blurry through Peter’s tears. “Are you alright?”

Peter bit his lip and shook his head. “Can I come in?”

“Yes, of course.” She stepped aside and Peter entered. Her room was a calming grey colour. The TV was projecting a muted television show that Peter was unfamiliar with. He sighed and sat down on her squishy bed, twisting the edge of her rainy-blue comforter. Trinkets and knick-knacks sat here and there on her shelves and some books were lined up neatly on their own shelf.

“So, what’s up?” Wanda asked, crossing her legs and interlocking her fingers together.

“I- I don’t know how sensitive you are about the subject,” Peter started, staring at the carpeted floor. “So just tell me if you want me to stop.” Wanda nodded and Peter took in a breath. “Pietro. You mentioned him once. He- he died right?”

Wanda’s eyes transferred to the window. “Yes, he did.”

“How do you- how do you deal with it so well?” Peter said bluntly.

She sat down next to the boy. They sat parallel and didn’t make eye contact. “It was a long time ago. If he didn’t die, Clint wouldn’t be alive. It was a noble sacrifice. Clint has a wife and kids. Pietro just has- _had_ me. And honestly, I think he saved all of us. I’m not exactly sure what happened, but a wave of my magic destroyed a _lot_ of Ultron-bots. They might have got their hands on the core of Sokovia, which might have made more than just one of us die.” She turned her head Peter’s direction. “And honestly, I choose to remember him for the brave person he was.”

“Wow,” Peter whispered.

“Why do you ask?” she questioned.

Peter’s tears quickly returned. “It’s- it’s just . . . this- this is the three-year anniversary of- of my Uncle Ben’s death.” He sniffled and wiped his cheeks. There were no tears. It was more of a grounding gesture. “I- I haven’t been- been sleeping that well . . . and I- I thought I’d ask you for advice . . . since- since you lost someone, too. And- and you’re here right now.”

Wanda placed her hand on Peter’s shoulder. Her fingers had about five rings on them, black and gold. They accented her shirt and eyes nicely. Her eyes were misty, too, since part of her abilities was an empath and a telepath. She knew what he was feeling.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Wanda empathized.

“Thanks,” Peter sniffed, putting his hand on top of Wanda’s.

“And to answer your question, I cope by choosing to remember Pietro as oppose to miss him,” she said. “I wish I had more time with him, as you probably do with you uncle.” She gave his shoulder a quick squeeze. “But it’s not about how much time you have. It’s about what you choose to do with it.”

Peter started to cry.

The last thing that happened between him and Ben was a fight. A goddamn fight right before he was shot and killed. Right before he went looking for Peter. It was all his fault. He didn’t know that their time would be so short together. If he knew, then he’d have cherished every single moment with the amazing man. Sobs dug their daggers into his chest.

Wanda was then pulling the teenager in for a hug. He didn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around her shoulders. The hug was so gentle and soft. Peter rested the side of his face on Wanda’s shoulder. Since her shirt was black, spotting the wet patches on it from Peter’s embarrassing tears would be close to impossible. She started moving her hand up and down his back in gentle movements for consolation.

“Pietro died three years ago for me, too,” whispered Wanda, not letting go for a second. “I was fifteen when it happened.”

“I- I was thirteen,” Peter sniffed, grasping the back of her shirt.

He was the one who released and immediately wiped his cheeks with the back of his hands to remove the tears.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Wanda asked gently, rubbing the side of Peter’s arm.

Peter sniffled and nodded, his bottom lip trembling. “What- what you said about it being not about- about how much time you have and it being what you choose to do with it . . . I- I don’t think I chose well.” A lone tear rolled down Peter’s face.

Wanda didn’t brush it away like May or Tony. She let it drip onto her comforter and he tear remains do their thing on Peter’s face. “Why do you say that?”

“Because . . . because the last thing that happened with us was a fight,” Peter whispered.

_“You have to learn responsibility for your actions!” Ben had shouted._  
_“Oh yeah?” Peter had challenged. “Am I not aloud to forget? Am I supposed to develop a photographic memory overnight, on top of all the school work I have to do because you made me go into that advanced school? I’m sorry that I’m not perfect like everything else in your life!” And then he had stormed out of the apartment, slamming the door behind him._

“And- and he came looking for me after I left,” Peter said, his voice wavering. “And then this guy ran out of- out of a convenience store with a case of beer. The cashier screamed for someone to stop him.” Tears spilled from the teen’s chocolate brown eyes. “Ben tried. And then the- the guy pulled out a gun.”

“You can stop there,” Wanda said softly, curling her hand around Peter’s. “I get what happened. I’m so sorry.” She smiled sadly. “Is there anything you want me to do?”

“I- I just wish I’d stop crying,” Peter said with a bitter, breathless laugh.

“From what I heard, you need to cry,” Wanda assured. “I’m probably the one least likely to judge you for it, because I know exactly what you’re feeling.”

What she said made sense, and Peter nodded like he agreed, but he just couldn’t bring himself to break down again and let everything out just yet. He swallowed back another wave of tears. Wanda seemed like she was truly serious about not judging Peter. He’d only just met the girl but related to her most because she was only two years older than him. Plus, she was really entertaining.

“Have you been- have you been reading- reading my mind?” Peter stuttered.

Wanda looked embarrassed. “I was. I’m sorry. I wasn’t sure if you were going to be able to tell me, and I wanted to be able to help you. I didn’t think I could help you if I didn’t know what was going on.”

“It’s okay,” Peter sniveled.

“I know you’re hurting,” Wanda said. “And I know you probably don’t want to talk a lot about what happened, but just know you can always always always talk to me about it, okay?”

Jeez, he was crying again.

Wanda pulled him into her chest. One of her hand pressed the side of Peter’s face into it, curling her fingers around the side of his head while the other went around his shoulders. Peter felt like a five-year-old curled up against her, but she didn’t mind at all. She rubbed his back comfortingly and rested her chin on the top of his head. She felt kind of like May to him for a second.

When Peter eventually pulled away, he saw tears glistening in Wanda’s eyes.

She can feel my emotions, Peter remembered and suddenly felt kind of bad that he made her feel this way.

“Don’t feel bad,” Wanda said quickly. Mind readers. “There’s only tears in my eyes because this is basically what I wanted to do, but I didn’t have anyone to do it with. I wanted to cry into someone that I knew would understand me, but there wasn’t anyone who I thought would.”

“W-well, there’s . . . there’s me now,” Peter said quietly, looking up at her with a smile.

“I guess there is.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mkay. I know. I know I know I know. I've written Uncle Ben things so many times. But just today I remembered that Wanda lost Pietro by a shooting, too. And I like Wanda and Peter's friendship that doesn't exist that I've just created, so heh. And I know I copied the 'it's not about how much time you have, it's what you choose to do with it' quote from Spy Kids, but it's a good line, lol.
> 
> Hope you enjoyed, and comments and kudos would be greatly appreciated!! <3


	5. The Fault In Our Stars (AKA Movies and Confessions)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are a couple spoilers for The Fault In Our Stars, just so you're aware.
> 
> Anyway, oh boy. This was kind of hard for me to write. But I hope you like it.

_The Fault In Our Stars_ DVD lay neatly on MJ’s lap while she sat on her couch next to Peter, who was thrilled to be hanging out with her, and even more thrilled that he’d be sleeping over. MJ had declared that they were going to watch a really sad movie as some kind of an ‘icebreaker’ she called it, saying something like, “Being sad together is a very good bonding experience.”

Now, Peter knew that about 95% of the people that watched this movie ended up metaphorically flooding their house with tears.

Oh well.

“It’s really sad,” MJ said. “I’ve seen it.”

“I’ve heard,” Peter said, not taking his eyes off the DVD. “So, uh, am I gonna cry?”

“Probably,” she snorted, playfully shoving his arm. “I did.”

Peter raised his eyebrows in surprise at this statement. Never once had he laid eyes on MJ crying, much less heard her admit to it. Which was sort of nice. He never really had to worry about her being in a bad mood or something a certain day, because her mood never once strayed from neutral and monotoned.

“So, shall we get on with it?” MJ said, placing the DVD on the coffee table in front of them. She stood up and brushing off her leggings. Lint flaked off the black material.

“We shall,” Peter said, smiling.

And with that, MJ popped the DVD into the DVD player and the movie started up. She jumped onto the couch, landing in a cross-legged position next to Peter. The couch was hilariously springy, so Peter toppled over at the impact. This sent MJ into a giggle-fit.

It was at around the 100-minute mark that Peter started to cry. When Hazel was reading her eulogy to Gus at his pre-funeral. Right when she started talking about the different kinds of infinities. How there are infinite numbers between 0 and 1. Then there are even more infinities between 0 and 2. She was so grateful for her infinity with Augustus Waters.  
MJ was a judgemental person, Peter wasn’t gonna lie. But she didn’t judge him for once, because she was crying too.

It was when Gus died at around the 110-minute mark that they both started sobbing. Peter covered his mouth with his hands and tried to sob as quietly as possible. They both sobbed with Hazel. Both of their pairs of legs were pulled into their chests as some sort of grounding motion. It was clear MJ was a little embarrassed to be crying in front of one of her best friends, but when her eyes flicked to Peter for the half-second it was, her embarrassment faded, because she wasn’t the only one bawling her eyes out.

They were silent for the rest of the movie.

Right until the end.

Right until Hazel finished reading the letter Gus wrote for her and sent to Peter Van Houten (the asshole Van Houten was) who was the author of their favourite book.

“Okay, Augustus,” Hazel said. “Okay.”

Then the screen went black and the credits started rolling. They seemed to match the speed of the tears rolling down both teenagers’ faces. MJ was the first to wipe them away. Peter quickly copied her motion.

“Whoa,” he breathed. “That was . . . tragic.” He chuckled through his tears at himself for crying about a movie.

“Right?” MJ agreed. She ran her fingers along her waterlines to remove any remaining tears. She chuckled too. She looked so raw in this moment. No makeup, beautiful curly hair loose and messy, sweatpants and a t-shirt, tears on her face and bright red waterlines.

“I don’t think I’ve cried that much in a movie before,” Peter said, flicking away any of the last tears on his face. “Oh my _God.”_

“Wasn’t it good though?” MJ asked, smiling.

Peter nodded. “Yeah, but I hate how they made Peter Van Houten have my first name and make him such a shithead.”

MJ giggled. “Yeah. He was a douche. I hate his character a lot. But, I choose to think of his character as important, because with out him, Hazel and Gus wouldn’t have gone to Amsterdam. They wouldn’t have shared those beautiful moments with each other.”

“They wouldn’t have had sex,” Peter chuckled and MJ shot him a look. “Sorry, keep going.”

“It added to their story in such a good way,” MJ continued. “So, I don’t choose to hate him, I choose to hate his character, if that makes any sense.”

“It does,” Peter agreed. “I get where you’re coming from.”

“You cried in any other movies?” MJ asked casually, turning to face him. Her feet rested on the couch cushions and she locked her fingers together around her legs.

“ _A Dog’s Purpose_ and _Titanic,”_ Peter admitted, kicking at the ground.

“Oh, those were so sad,” MJ said. “They were really good, though. It was when the dog died the first time and when Jack died, right?”

“Yep,” Peter confirmed. “I don’t know what gets me about the emotional deaths, but that’s what gets me. Even when it’s a dog,” he added with a chuckle at the end. They were silent for a moment.

"What about you?" Peter asked.

“It's not a movie, but have you heard of Junko Furuta?” MJ said slowly.

“No.”

“Well, look her up.”

He did.

He wished he didn’t.

“ _Holy shit,”_ Peter whispered. “I’m not gonna read any more of this. I'm sorry. I can't.”

“Yeah. I cried after reading that,” MJ said with a sigh. “I just can’t believe some people are just heartless monsters. But they’re not even monsters. They’re _people._ People with brains and hearts just like anyone, but they still chose to do that. Even when the girl begged them to end her life, they laughed and continued wailing on her.” She looked up at the ceiling, and then down at her knees. “I found out about it last week. I cried into my pillow until I couldn’t anymore. 44 days of her life, living through unimaginable torture.”

“400 times?” Peter breathed, his hands shaking. “She was . . . you know, _done,_ 400 times?”

MJ nodded and her eyes welled up. “She’s kind of the reason why I’m so scared of guys.” She looked up at Peter. “Not you or Ned. I know you guys, and I know you wouldn’t do that. But any other guys just . . . I just can’t help thinking about her.” A lone tear travelled down her copper-skinned face and splashed onto the couch cushions. She didn’t bother to wipe it away.

Peter’s bottom lip started to quiver. The images on that site were burned into the back of his eyelids permanently now. His eyes were completely dry. He looked up at MJ and focused on the shiny, watery line where her tear rolled down her face.

Peter gently placed his hand atop hers. She twitched but relaxed a moment later.

MJ was then leaning over, and the teenagers were quickly holding each other in a tight embrace. Peter felt wet drops land on the shoulder of his cotton shirt. He tightened his hold on MJ and felt her relax. Peter closed his eyes and they sat there for a while hugging.

“I'm so glad you're my friend,” MJ whispered.

“Darn right you are,” Peter said cockily.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I chose to add the story of Junko Furuta in here, in a non-graphic way, because I am utterly heartbroken by the story and I feel like it needs to be heard. You can look it up, but it's graphic and tragic. The images were burned into my eye-lids for a couple days. I know it was twenty years ago or so, but it's a story that shatters every bit of my soul. I cannot believe someone would do that. 
> 
> I just watched The Fault In Our Stars for the second time and I bawled my eyes out, as I did the first time.
> 
> Anyways, i hope you enjoyed my heartfelt speech.


	6. Sneaking Out (AKA Cashing in on the Card)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is really really short. I just wanted to write something. I think it's pretty funny, tho. Hope you enjoy.

Just when Peter thought he might have been able to sneak out of the compound without being noticed, a sarcastic voice rang through the room.

“Welcome back.”

Peter froze. “H-hey, Mr. Stark?”

“Hi.” The billionaire stood up from the chair he was sitting in and placed his Starkpad down on the tiny table to the right. “So, usually I wouldn’t care if you were going out as Spider-Man, but you’re not exactly wearing the suit.”

Peter looked down at his body, dressed in a blue sweater and jeans, like he forgot. Haha. Nope. He didn’t say anything.

“So, what’s been going on?” Tony quickly closed the distance between the two, resting his hands on the sides of Peter’s shoulders.

The teenager’s face became hot and his heart started to pound in his chest. “I, uh . . . well, you see . . . I . . . well . . .”

Tony raised his eyebrows.

“I was . . . I was with MJ,” he said quietly.

“Doing what?” Realization lit up over Tony’s face. “Oh my _God. Holy shit._ Well, congrats.”

Peter took off for his room, but Tony’s hand clasped around his wrist. “Hey, hey! Where are you going? I just said congrats. Was that your first time?”

“Can you die of embarrassment?” Peter groaned, slumping against the wall, running his hands through his hair. “And no.”

Tony started to laugh. “You mean you’ve been screwing girls before this?”

If Peter’s face wasn’t red before, it certainly was now. Peter slid down the wall, sitting against in with his face pressed into his knees. A quiet thump next to him indicated Tony was there. The man’s hand clapped down on Peter’s shoulder.

“No need to be embarrassed,” Tony reassured. “it’s just kinda funny that you are so embarrassed. You have condoms, right?”

“Mr. Stark!” Peter exclaimed, his voice reaching a pitch he didn’t know he could get to. If the situation wasn’t so awkward, he’d be embarrassed.

“I’m serious!” Tony laughed. He bit his lip to try to stifle his laughter.

“Yes I do,” Peter whispered.

“Do you use them?”

“I don’t need a Sex Ed!” Peter squeaked, standing up. “I’m gonna go to my room and die in a hole of embarrassment.”

Tony didn’t even hear the last sentence through his hysterical laughter. _“Sex Ed!”_ he repeated, his head flopping against the wall. His chest heaved with his laughs and made Peter want to literally die in a hole. Tony wiped away the laughter-tears and stood up. “Is she a good one?’

Peter’s face contorted in horror, staring at Tony wide-eyed, which sent Tony into hysterics again. “No like _that._ Oh my God! I mean is she like, a good person?”

Unsure exactly why this was so damn funny, he said, “Yeah, she’s great.”

Tony pursed his lips together, a smile tugging at the ends of them. He was about to burst. “Okay, I’m going to let you go free of this interrogation, but please let me know if you’re going to leave next time.”

Peter nodded his head frantically and then shot off to his room. _Oh my god oh my god oh my god._ He definitely hadn’t wanted anyone to find out this was. Especially not Tony. He wanted to let it do it’s thing and see if it was going to continue, and if it was, then he’d share.

He certainly didn’t need _Tony Freaking Stark_ to give him a _Sex Ed lesson._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was like dying of laughter while writing this. I found it so so funny. I know not everyone thinks sex jokes are funny, but i think they're goddamn hilarious, so i hope you did too XD
> 
> Reviews and kudos are already amazing!


	7. Blood On My Hands (AKA The Rewritten Origin Story)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As i said, this is a complete one-shot story, so this will make absolutely no sense, since Uncle Ben is in it. And it won't effect the next chapter at all.
> 
> All that said, enjoy ;)

“You owe your aunt an apology!” Ben shouted, aggressively jabbing his finger at Peter’s chest. “A big one!”

“Honestly, Ben, I’m perfectly capable of—” May started but Ben cut her off.

“He needs to start picking up his ass around here!”

“I’m sorry I’m not perfect like everything else in your life!” Peter shouted, dashing for the door with hot tears burning his eyes. He heard Ben and May calling his name, but ignored them. He needed to get out. To stop being such a failure.

What if they would be happier without him?

He tried to push that thought away as he ran through the streets of Queens, stopping at a crosswalk near the gas station. The tall black lamppost seemed to pull him up to the perpendicular bar where Peter could sit.

Peter slumped back against the post and brought his knees into his chest. A couple tears escaped his eyes and rolled down his cheeks. Peter blinked his eyes to push out any remaining tears and focused on their warmth sliding down his skin, tugging his hoodie sleeves over his hands. He wasn’t cold. It was a warm night, but he needed some kind of grounding motion to keep his emotions intact.

And then he heard it.

“Peter!”

Peter pulled himself against the lamppost and hoped the darkness would conceal him.

“Peter, please, come out!”

He was about to.

He was about to hop down and say, “Okay, you got me. I’m sorry.”

But then a smash rang through his ears. The teenager’s head snapped in the direction. The street lamps illuminated a mugger sprinted across the street with a case of beer locked in his fingers.

“Somebody stop that dude!” someone yelled from the convenience store.

The mugger came face to face with Ben they crashed into each other, the beer splitting and the liquid inside starting to seep out onto the sidewalk.

Then a gun clattered across the concrete.

Peter leapt down from the lamppost.

Ben and the mugger made eye contact for a split second before they both scrambled across the sidewalk for the gun. They made contact at the same time.

“Ben!” Peter exclaimed, sprinting towards him.

“Peter, no!” Ben screamed.

As hard as Ben tried, he could not stop the mugger’s finger curling around the trigger.

“BEN!” Peter screamed, freezing up on the curb as a harsh tingling sensation spread through his body. He couldn’t move. Invisible chains bound him to the curb.

And then . . .

. . . _bang, bang._

Their faces contorted in shock before he crumpled to the ground. The mugger took off down the street. For a moment, not even that made Peter unfreeze.

Just a moment.

“BEN!” Peter screamed, rushing over and kneeling at his side, his eyes locked on the growing red spot in Ben’s grey cotton t-shirt, the soft one that Peter loved to cuddle up on as a kid.

Peter pressed his uncontrollably shaky hands over the wound, watching blood spew through the cracks in his fingers. Tears blurred his vision. “It’s- it’s okay . . . everything’s going to be okay!” Peter sputtered. “SOMEONE CALL AN AMBULANCE!!” He left his phone at the apartment. “Please,” he added with tears spilling over his eyes.

“Peter . . .” came Ben’s scratchy voice. He dragged a hand up and cupped the teenager’s cheek, using the pad of his thumb to gently brush away the tears on his face. “I love you. Take care of May, alright?”

“No, don’t say it like that!” Peter cried, grasping his uncle’s hand. More tears started to pour down his cheeks, which Ben rubbed away. “Ben, please!”

“I love you,” Ben repeated, and then his eyes fluttered closed. His hand dropped away from Peter’s face.

Peter sat there, unmoving for a second with tears falling from his eyes in streams. “Ben?” he whispered. When not a sound was made, Peter grabbed his uncle’s hand and pressed it in between his. “Ben!” Tears were coming at full force now. “No, please!! Please! You have to come home with me! You have to . . .” He didn’t finish and collapsed onto the sidewalk, holding both of his uncle's hands.

Peter wasn’t sure how hard you could cry, but he wasn’t sure if it was any more than this.

Heavy sobs ripped through his throat and echoed through the street and tears were pooling on the sidewalk.

Someone must have heard his call for an ambulance, because the sound of loud sirens filled Peter’s ears. He looked up and saw bunches of blue, red, and white through his tears.

Soon, the ambulance was at his side, loading Ben into it.

“Do you have anyone to call?” a woman asked Peter.

He did, but he couldn't. Not after what he did. He couldn't call May, he just couldn't. He'd call her later, but for the time being, with guilt consuming him, tearing at his heart, he had to let my be at least somewhat happy for as long as possible.

Peter shook his head, still sitting on the ground, supporting himself with his hands. It was starting to hurt them, but good. It was his fault. He needed to be hurt.

“You don’t have any relatives?” the woman pressed. “A friend you could call?”

A completely irrational thought rang through his head and came out his mouth before he could stop it. “There . . . there is my mentor.” He hadn't talked to Tony Stark in a very long time, not since he was invited to Germany that one time, while he was still getting used to his powers. He remembered telling Mr. Stark that he had the powers for six months, but no. It was a lie. It was a good maybe two _weeks_ and he was still adjusting to them.

The woman didn’t press any further questions and handed him her phone. Peter didn’t know Tony Stark’s number, but he knew Happy’s. Hopefully Happy could get Tony to come.

The phone rang four times before Happy picked up.

“This is Happy Hogan.” Peter had never been happier to hear his voice.

“Happy!” he cried into the phone, tears coming out again.

“Whoa, Peter? What’s going on?”

“I need help!” he cried. “I need . . . I need someone to come get me.”

“Where are you?”

He glanced around and found the street’s sign. “It’s- it’s a street in Queens, near the gas station.” He stuttered out the street name. He wasn’t sure how much of it Happy made out since he was crying so hard. “My . . . my- my- uncle just died.”

“Oh, kid. I’m so sorry.” Happy took a breath. “Someone’s coming to get you right now.”

“Thank you, Happy,” Peter sobbed.

“Don’t worry about it.”

Peter ended the call and handed the phone back to the woman. “Is someone coming to get you?” she asked neutrally. 

Peter sniveled and nodded.

“Do you need someone to stay with you?”

“No . . . I’m okay. It won’t be that long anyway.”

That time gave Peter a while to think. To think about what he had just done. How he could've _done something_ , but instead he just sat around like a helpless idiot, frozen to his stance. He couldn't move. The chronic thoughts only made him cry harder.

It seemed like a long-ass time until finally the familiar sleek black Audi pulled to a stop right next to Peter. He hadn’t stopped crying.

He expected Happy to come out of the car’s door.

But Tony Stark stepped out.

“Hey, kid,” he said softly.

Peter blinked his tired eyes. “Mr. Stark?”

The billionaire closed the distance between them in a couple seconds, kneeling in front of Peter, his hand on the teenager’s shoulder. “I’m so sorry.”

Something broke.

Peter started crying just as hard as before. He buried his face in his hands while his whole body shook with each sob. He'd never cried in front of Tony, and never planned on it either, but yet here he was. He hated himself so viciously right then that he almost collapsed.

“Come here.” And with that, Tony’s arms pulled him into his chest, hugging him tightly. Peter threw his arms around Tony’s shoulders and cried into his shirt. Tony carded his fingers through his hair. His other arms tightly embraced Peter’s upper back and rubbed his arm. Tony didn’t say, _“It’s going to be okay”_ or _“You’re okay”_ , and Peter was grateful for it, because that wouldn’t be the truth. Tony rested the side of his face on the top of Peter’s head, slowly rocking back and forth.

Eventually, Peter’s tears dried up and he pushed himself away from his mentor’s hold. Tony met his eyes and his expression immediately softened. “Hey,” he said gently, brushing away the remaining tears on Peter’s face with his thumb. “Come on, let’s get outta here.”

Peter nodded and let Tony help him to his feet. “Do . . . do I get shotgun?”

A hint of a smile tugged at the corners of Tony’s lips. “There’s no one else here.” Tony pulled open the passenger door of his car and Peter climbed into the seat. He felt weak.

Nothing wanted to move.

He clicked the seat belt in place and Tony walked around the hood of the car to get in the other side.

“He's- he's gone, isn't he?” Peter whispered at soon as Tony closed the door on his side and settled into his seat. “Ben.”

Tony looked for a second like he was about to cry. “Yeah, kid. I’m so sorry.” He sighed sadly. "Have you called your aunt yet?"

Peter almost threw up at the thought. "N-no, I haven't." 

"Alright, well we're going to have to go there now," Tony said softly. "I'm sorry kid, but you gotta." 

Peter bit his lip and nodded while fresh tears sprung into his eyes. “Thank you, for- for coming here.”

Tony rested his hand on Peter’s shoulder. “Any time.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a one-shot story, so this doesn't effect the next chapters to come.
> 
> Aside from that, jesus christ i almost cried while writing this. Poor Peter ;'(


	8. Hammer Drones (AKA The Little Boy in 2010)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys should like this one ;)
> 
> It has to be Tony's POV for a very specific reason that you have yet to find out

**Tony’s POV:**

“Hey, Mr. Stark?” Peter suddenly piped up in the middle of mindless tinkering, his voice going to his nervous-high-pitched tone.

“Mmhmm?” Tony responded, lazily tightening a tiny screw, his eyes only half open.

“Do you keep all the art you get in the mail?” Peter asked, looking a little sheepish.

The piles and piles of art Tony had in that cupboard flashed through his mind. It really was sweet. He did enjoy looking at them, but there was just _so many_ to keep track of.

“Pepper makes me,” the billionaire scoffed.

“How do you organize them?” Peter pressed.

Tony blinked in confusion. _Why the sudden interest?_ he wanted to say. “Uh, by and month and year. Like there with be a 07/12 for July 2012, or a 09/16 for September 2016 and so on and so forth.”

Peter nodded and a slight blush crept onto his cheeks. “Can I, um, maybe see some of them?”

Tony repeated the blinking routine. “I suppose,” he said slowly and them jerked his thumb to the row of cupboards behind him. “Go look in there.” The kid nodded and headed off in that direction. Tony heard quiet rustling as he thumbed his way through the many, many months of receiving fan mail. He went quiet for a moment and Tony stopped twisting part of his project to listen.

Peter was sitting cross-legged on the floor, flipping through the date 05/10. A tiny smile was embedded in his face, making his cheeks pop adorably. Tony bit back his own smile at the kid’s satisfaction and went back to working on his project, curious as to why Peter would pick this specific date and played through all the possibilities in his head.

 _That was when the Stark Expo was,_ Tony thought bitterly. With all those goddamn hammer drones. His mind was sent into a rant about how much he regretted that Expo when he was interrupted by Peter.

He produced a happy sound and said, “Found it.”

Tony turned around to face him. “What did you find?”

Peter was holding a piece of standard drawing paper in his hands so tightly Tony was worried it might rip and a huge smile stretched from ear to ear. His smile was unbelievably contagious. “This,” he said, turning the paper to reveal the drawing sketched into it.

It was a picture of a child wearing an Iron Man helmet and gauntlet, holding out his hand as if he were fending off robots. It put a smile on Tony’s face. It wasn’t particularly a good drawing, but the rawness of it was so cute. It looked like a kid in elementary school made it.

“I like that one,” Tony said. “So, what’s it to you?”

Peter’s blush returned. “Okay, so where do I start . . . uh, you remember the Expo in 2010, right? With the hammer drones?”

“Yeah, that sucked,” Tony said, pushing away his non-faded anger. _Fucking Justin Hammer._

“This drawing was made after that,” Peter said, tracing his finger along the outside of the helmet. The drawing was entirely made with crayons, the florescent lights on the ceiling glinting off the wax. “By the- by the kid you saved that night.”

“The kid I saved that night HOLY SHIT,” Tony said suddenly, everything clicking. “No fucking way. _No fucking way.”_

Peter smiled shyly. “Fucking way.”

“First of all, language, and second, HOLY SHIT that was made by you?” Tony was utterly gobsmacked.

“That’s kind of what motivated me to be completely honest,” Peter said softly, not taking his eyes off the drawing. “To be Spider-Man, I mean. That’s- that’s why I look up to you so much, because you saved me.”

Tony was embarrassed when he felt tears spring into his eyes. Not in a million years would he have thought he’d ever see that little kid again. He was so precious. Roleplaying to try to scare off the drones. They must have made a pretty damn good replica of his helmet for the drone to want to attack it. And then it turns out that the little kid was fucking Peter Parker. His mentee. His intern. The kid who was practically a _son_ to him.

“Whoa,” he breathed. “That’s . . . wow.”

Peter’s smile didn’t fade for a second. “Yeah. So, uh, I guess thank you for saving me.”

Tony blinked away the unwanted tears in his eyes and sat down next to Peter on the floor, eyeing the drawing with immense concentration. “How come you waited to tell me?”

“I wasn’t sure you’d want to hear about the whole hammer drone thing,” Peter said sheepishly. “Because you seemed pretty ticked about it. I forgot for a while.” He shifted in his sitting position to face the billionaire. “I, um, drew it at school, since I didn’t have crayons at home. It was fun to draw. I showed my aunt and she suggested mailing it to you. So I did. Well, she did. I had no clue how to mail stuff. I always wondered if you saw it.”

Tony pinched the bridge of his nose. “That was heartfelt. Okay, so _of course_ I saw it. Pepper makes me not only keep them but look at them. Good on her, by the way.” He made eye contact with Peter. “I actually remember looking at that picture, remembering that I saved a little kid in an Iron Man helmet the night of the Expo clusterfuck. I did wonder for a brief period of time if the kid I saved drew it." He smiled. "And now I know." Peter looked down, his blush brightening. "Alright, come here.”

Then he pulled the teenager into a tight hug. “Thanks for the mail,” he chuckled and Peter giggled.

“Yup,” he chirped, squeezing the back of Tony’s shirt, his hands in fists.

Suddenly, Tony was glad the whole Expo fiasco happened. He might not have met Peter because of it. That would have been the worst mistake of his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got the idea to write this after I rewatched Iron Man 2 the other day. I was like 'oh yeah that little kid is Peter' so then I was like 'let's write a fan fiction that revolves around that.' So this was what i came up with.
> 
> Hope you lovelies enjoyed!! Comments and kudos are always wonderful <3


	9. Alley (AKA Why Couldn't He Have Been There?)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Non-graphic depictions of rape warning......

MJ came to school abnormally and uncharacteristically quiet. She had on a grey hoodie and the hood covered most of her face. Her hair stuck out from the front of the hood, cascading down her chest.

She didn’t join Peter and Ned at lunch.

“Where’s MJ?” Ned asked, eyeing the empty chair.

“I dunno, she seems so distant today,” Peter responded. “I’ll text her.”

**Peter: Hey, MJ. Where you at?**

She responded quickly.

**MJ: I need to be alone**

**Peter: You shouldn’t have to be alone**

**MJ: You wouldn’t understand**

**Peter: You don’t know that**

**MJ: Yeah, well, you just try to understand. I bet you 100 bucks you won’t**

Her bluntness and her seemingly angry texts made Peter more worried than he already was. “I’m gonna go find her,” he announced, stuffing the remains of his lunch into the paper bag in which they came in.

“I don’t think that’s a good—” Ned started, but Peter cut him off.

“No probably not, but I feel like she needs company,” he said, shoving the lunch bag into his Jansport backpack. “Seeya in Spanish.” He gave his friend a tiny smile and searched the school for MJ, finding her outside near the football field, eating her lunch alone.

She heard his footsteps and looked up from her sandwich. She gave a loud sigh and said, “What are you doing here? I told you to leave me alone.”

“I’m here because I feel like you need someone to talk to,” Peter said firmly, plopping down next to her.

“Go away, Parker,” MJ muttered.

“Wow, look at what a beautiful day it is,” Peter said, bowling over her. “Not a cloud in the sky. The sun’s just giving off those warm rays that just soak into your skin. I wonder how you’re not baking in that hoodie.” He let out a theatrical sigh. “I love weather like this.” It was a complete lie. He didn’t particularly like the heat and paranoia that he might get a sunburn and enjoyed thunderstorms while drinking hot chocolate, wrapped up in a blanket.

“So what, are you a weatherman now?” MJ snapped.

“What’s up with you?” Peter asked, deciding not to be offended by her tone.

MJ looked down and away. “Nothing.”

“Bullshit,” Peter countered. “It’s just me. What’s going on?”

“You won’t understand!” MJ exploded, throwing her hands up. When she did, her hoodie sleeves slipped down her arms revealing purple and blue bruises on her wrists. She quickly pulled her sleeves back up and looked down again.

Peter reached out to pull her sleeves down. She twitched but let him. The marks looked like hand prints and the smaller ones looked like finger prints. He carefully ran a gentle finger along the marks and MJ flinched away. “Sorry, did that hurt?”

“No,” she whispered. “It’s not you.”

“What happened?” he asked gently, refraining from touching her.

“You wouldn’t understand,” she insisted, pulling her sleeves back up again.

“Then help me understand,” Peter returned in a soft voice.

MJ sighed and what looked like tears welled up in her eyes. “I . . . I . . .” she whispered, pressing her palms over her eyes. “Something happened . . . to me.” Her body started to shake and Peter realized she was crying with a horrible twist in his heart.

“What happened to you?” he asked. But in his heart he knew. He didn’t want to believe it. He couldn’t bear to think that someone could . . .

“I- I think you have a guess,” she sniveled. “But let me- let me clarify.” Her voice was hitched with sobs. “I was just- just walking home,” she started in a whisper. “Next to an alley. Then- then someone . . . someone came up behind me and dragged me into the alley.” Peter’s heart sank and he nodded for her to continue. “And he- and he did things,” she continued, starting to cry hard again. “He- he- he . . . did things. He pushed me to the ground and- and got on top of me, pinning me down by my wrists.”

“MJ . . .” Peter whispered.

She buried her face in her hands and her body shook with sobs. “I froze up. I should have- I should have pushed him off or- or done something, but I couldn’t.” She kept brushing her fingers across her cheeks to remove her tears and eventually gave up since the kept coming. “The alley was dark, so no one could see. I tried to scream but nothing came out. And- and- and then . . .” She couldn’t finish her sentence.

Peter wanted to hug her but was worried if physical contact would make her scared. “Oh, MJ,” he whispered, pushing away any instincts and taking her in for a hug. She didn’t flinch and curled into his chest, heaving with sobs. “I’m so sorry.” He didn’t know what to say. He already told himself to not ask any stupid questions like _“Are you okay?”_ or _“How are you now?”_ Because like, _"How the fuck do you think?"_

They sat there for a long time. MJ cried and cried and cried. He’d never seen her let loose her emotions like this before. She was so hurt and scared and _broken._ That asshole _broke_ her. He wished death upon that asshole. He wished the worst form of death upon that asshole.

“Peter,” she sobbed, breaking away.

“I’m here,” he said.

“Do you- do you think that I’m ruined forever?”

The question struck him in the heart. She was so raw and innocent in this moment. She felt like newly frozen ice, ready to crack under the slightest bit of pressure.

“No, of course not,” Peter assured. “Something awful happened to you. But you’re not ruined forever, because you’re stronger than him.”

“If I was stronger I would have _done_ something,” MJ said, her voice wavering. “But instead I let him . . .” She didn’t finish and fresh tears sprung into her eyes. She wiped her face with the backs of her hands.

“I’m so sorry,” Peter whispered, his eyes fixed on the bruises on her wrists.

“Those aren’t the only ones,” MJ said, noticing him eyeing her bruises.

“You don’t have to,” Peter said softly.

MJ shook her head and pulled off her hoodie. She drew back the part of her cotton shirt that covered one of her shoulders. Dark finger marks plunged into her skin. One of them was hiding under the strap of her bra.

“God, I’m so sorry,” Peter whispered. “I’m so, so sorry.”

“What’s done is done,” MJ sniffled, releasing her shirt. “I can’t change it now.”

Peter didn’t know how to respond to that.

“I should go,” MJ whispered, grabbing her hoodie and starting to get up. Peter didn’t protest. He let her head towards the school. He wanted to cry himself. He wanted that asshole to pay for what he did.

But he couldn’t have that.

Because he wasn’t there to save her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jeez. So I just finished rewatching all 13 Reasons Why. It's a very good story, but it's so sad. I got this idea from one of the episodes that I won't spoil.
> 
> If anything like this ever happens to you, please reach out. Don't bottle it up. I promise. It will help
> 
> Love you guys <3


	10. Red, White, and Blue Sprinkles (AKA The Last Donut)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was unbelievably fun to write! It left me feeling all warm and squishy inside XD

“We brought donuts,” Thor announced, carrying a box of Crispy Cream donuts under his arm with Steve following behind with a bag of groceries.

“Yay!” Wanda chirped, clapping her hands together. “Can we have them now?”

“Now, hold on a damn second—” Tony started but everyone was already across the room, groping around for their favourite donut.

“Nobody take the last donut with red, white, and blue sprinkles or I will rain down hellfire on you!” Steve exclaimed just as Peter gave Tony a quick look from over his shoulder and came back holding two donuts. One with plain glaze and the other with red, white, and blue sprinkles.

 _This kid is too precious,_ Tony thought, his heart thrumming, as Peter held out the sprinkled one towards Tony, who tipped his head, smiled, and politely took the donut from the kid’s hands. Peter plopped down next to him on the couch, taking a bite of his pastry.

“These are so good,” Peter remarked, a couple flakes of the gaze dropping onto his lap.

Clint and Sam were swatting each others hands away from the last donut and Wanda was laughing at them and Thor was chowing down on what was probably his fifth one.  
  
Tony was just about to take a bite of his when Steve was suddenly in front of him. “Stark,” he said.

Tony looked up at him. “Rogers.”

Steve looked down at the donut in Tony’s hands. “Is that the last donut with red, white, and blue sprinkles?” he asked with as much ‘Captain America’ in his voice as he could.

“Yeah,” Tony said, raising the donut to his lips and took a bite.

Peter’s wide eyes were flicking back and forth between them. “What’d I tell you would happen if you ate the last donut with red, white, and blue sprinkles?”

 _Oh, I see what he’s doing,_ Tony mused. Playing along, he said, “I dunno, something about raining down hellfire.” Luckily, he was a very good actor and managed to keep his laughter smothered.

“That’s right,” Steve said, trying especially hard not to do the same.

“And here I am without an umbrella,” Tony said.

“I feel a storm brewing,” Steve hissed.

A loud screech occurred from across the room. Steve and Tony made eye contact for a second and both instantly burst out laughing. Peter had just taken a bite of his donut and was shielding his mouth with his hand while laughing.

Clint slapped his knee and Sam took this as an opportunity to grab the last donut and took off across the room with it. “Hey!” Clint shouted, sprinting after him, cornering Sam behind the couch. Peter craned his neck to watch the show. “Gimme that!” Clint demanded, leaping over the couch at Sam, who quickly jumped left and Clint skidded across the floor.

Steve looked back at Tony. “But seriously, hand me the donut,” he said, holding out his hand commandingly.

“You’re not the captain of me!” Tony quipped, jumping up from the couch and running for the kitchen, donut still in hand.

Peter’s head was back against the couch and he was shaking in laughter.

“Help me out, kid!” Steve exclaimed at Peter, who nodded and ran after Tony with Steve following behind. Tony was in the kitchen behind the island, eating the donut. His eyes widened when he saw Steve and Peter coming at him.

“I thought you were on my side!” Tony said to Peter, trying to get out of the room. Steve stood in the way and Tony started for the other way.

“Peter!” Steve exclaimed. The teenager jumped in front of Tony and the man let out an uncharacteristically high screech and Peter plucked the donut out of his hand.

“Thank you!” he squeaked, dashing towards his room.

“Hey, that’s supposed to be mine!” Steve called after him. He looked at Tony for a second and they both ran after Peter.

Peter yelped as Tony came up from behind him and closed his arms around his chest. Peter shrieked with laughter and the donut fell from his hand. Flakes of the glaze littered the floor. Steve picked it up from the floor, Tony still holding Peter in his tight grip. Peter’s stomach hurt from all the laughter. Tony’s hold quickly turned into a hug from behind which Peter returned as Steve polished off the donut.

“Victory!” he said triumphantly. “I retrieved the donut!”

Tony had never had a better time and his squeezed the kid in his arms.

“Isn’t that a pretty picture,” Wanda quipped from down the hall, holding her Polaroid camera in her hands. Her finger with black nail polish rested over the shutter button.

“No, _no!_ ” Steve shouted just as Wanda clicked the button and the Polaroid printed out from the top of the camera. Steve sighed and watched as Wanda waved the Polaroid around, waiting for it to develop.

Tony released Peter from his hold and the kid quickly hugged him from the front. Tony laughed and returned the embrace, burying his face into Peter’s soft brown curls.

“Look, it’s cute!” Wanda said happily, showing the picture to Steve, who immediately cracked up.

“Look at my face!” Steve shrilled, clapping his hands together.

“Oh boy, lemme see,” Tony said, pulling away from the hug and examining the picture. Steve’s mouth was in a big O and his eyes were wide. Peter’s face was scrunched up from his laughter and Tony’s arms were wrapped around his middle, laughing as well. He would never admit this, but he fucking _loved_ that picture.

Peter started to laugh. “That’s amazing. Can I keep it?”

“We should frame it,” Wanda suggested with a smile. “Hang it above the couch or something.”

They did end up framing it. Tony suggested scaling the size of it somehow, but Wanda and Peter insisted that it was best that size. And to Peter who could refuse?

Tony secretly had FRIDAY scan the picture and make a replica that Tony could keep. He smiled at it being his phone’s new wallpaper. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d laughed so hard. This was one of the best moments of his life.

He’d never ever forget it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys liked it :D
> 
> And yes I know Cap was DEFINITELY OOC but I really felt like I should make him more like Chris Evans than Cap in this chapter and it was just so fun that I got carried away XD


	11. Fire (AKA We Can't Always Save Everyone)

“Peter, there’s a fire on the east side of town,” Karen suddenly piped up and Peter’s heart beat picked up. “I am putting the coordinates on your screen.” Two seconds later, not only the coordinates popped up but also a tiny map.

“On my way!” Peter exclaimed, leaping off the building he was sitting on and swinging off in the direction of the fire.

Peter was pretty sure he could’ve found the place without the map or coordinates. It was a suburban house completely engulfed in flames. A crowd of people was clustered around the house, some with phones filming the situation. “Has 911 been called?” Peter asked Karen once he was within a hundred feet of the scene.

“The fire department is on their way,” Karen assured. “But my sensors are detecting organic forms on the second floor.”

 _Shit there’s people in there,_ Peter thought worriedly, landing outside the fire. Sparks made crackling sounds and the huge flames started to catch the nearby trees on fire. “Locate an optimal entry point,” Peter exclaimed, shielding his eyes from the brightness of the flames. Droney popped out of his chest and circled around the house.

“There’s a possible entry point on the northwest window,” Karen said, having footage from Droney play on his screen. “But be extremely cautious.”

“Got it!” Peter squeaked, webbing himself onto a lamppost and fixing his eyes on the northwest window. To get in there, he’d have to climb onto the roof, since the walls were almost completely fire now. Peter flipped onto the roof and wasted no time breaking into the window. He slid across the floor, very nearly coming in contact with a flaming bookshelf.

“Karen, where are the people?” he asked, frantically moving his eyes around.

“There are two children through the door in front of you,” Karen responded. Peter brought his foot out and kicked down the door. Sure enough, two little kids were cowering in a corner, sobbing their eyes out. Ash covered their faces and one of them looked like they had a burn on their hand.

“Hey guys,” Peter said soothingly. “I’m gonna get you out of here, okay?” He stepped towards them and they shrieked in fear, trying to get as far away as possible. “If I don’t, something bad is going to happen,” Peter wheedled, holding out both hands. “You just need to climb onto my back.”

“M-mommy said- said not- not- to talk to str-strangers,” the girl sniveled.

“I’m Spider-Man, I’m a friend to all,” Peter assured. “Grab my hand. It’s okay.”

They finally locked hands with Peter and he pulled them onto his back. Their weight was practically nothing to his super-strength. He wrapped a web around them for extra security and sprinted towards the window in which he broke in from. He made it down onto the side-walk quickly, detaching the kids from his back. They started to cough violently while they continued to cry.

“Where’s Mommy?” the little boy cried. Peter froze.

“You mean she’s still in there?” he shrieked.

“There appears to be another person in the south-east side of the building on the bottom floor,” Karen said.

“How come you didn’t tell me that?” Peter cried, sprinting towards the building.

“I didn’t locate the heat signature until after you rescued the children,” Karen said.

Then the building exploded in flames, sending Peter flying back onto the lawn. “No,” he whispered. _No. No no no!_ He had to get to their mom. They couldn’t lose their mom. No. He couldn’t let that happen.

Peter body-checked the door down. The bottom floor was much worse than the top floor. Flames circled everything. Most of the house was charred and ashes, but what wasn’t was covered in fire. “Where is the other person?” Peter cried, the smoke starting to get to him. He coughed a couple of times before Karen answered.

“To your right, through the hallway and first door to your left,” Karen informed. “But Peter, there is a very small chance that she survived the—”

“I know!” Peter yelled, dodging the flames in the path and dashing for the room. He had to get their mom. He knew the struggles of losing a mom. It was the worst thing in the world. Peter refused to let those little kids lose her.

When he kicked the door down with ease, though, his heart stopped. A person was sprawled across the floor with flames licking hungrily at her feet. Dark red and black burns covered her whole body and most of her clothing was ashes. If Peter didn’t know that she was a girl, he wouldn’t have known her gender by looking at her. She was burned beyond recognition.

Peter felt a lump in his throat form. He heard sirens from outside which meant the fire department was here. He stepped towards her charred body, feeling sick to his stomach. Don’t throw up, don’t throw up, he warned, collecting her into his arms. She was still hot from the fire but Peter didn’t care. He broke down the window in her room and managed to swing down to the sidewalk. An explosion of gasps and murmurs went through the crowd.

“Help!” Peter screamed. “Help!”

Heads from the fire department snapped his way and a group of people rushed towards him. “Thank you, son, we’ll take it from here,” one of them said to Peter.

“Is she . . .” Peter whispered, trailing off.

One of the men looked at him sadly. “You did the best you could. But her burns are way too severe to be fixed. I’m sorry.”

It’s always embarrassing crying in front of a stranger, especially if you’re dressed in a fucking superhero costume. But hot tears trickled down Peter’s face and a small sob escaped his mouth. Now the kids would most likely be orphans. And it was _all his fault._

The fire was finally out about an hour later. Peter hadn’t left the scene. He stood there the whole time, eventually collapsing onto the curb. When the fire department left and the crows of people scattered, Peter still sat there. He pressed his palms over his eyes, his throat hurting from holding back tears for so long.

“Incoming call from Tony Stark,” Karen said.

“Answer,” Peter sniveled and Tony’s face was soon in the screen. He looked like he was driving.

“Peter,” he said sternly. “Kid. Are you okay? I know what you did.”

“I’m- I’m okay,” Peter whispered.

“What’s wrong?” Tony asked, concern rising in his voice. “I’m on my way to your location, so stay still.”

“Just . . . something happened,” Peter sniffed, trying desperately not to cry.

“O-kay,” Tony said. “I’ll be there shortly, so stay put, got it?”

“Yes sir,” Peter whispered.

“End call.” Tony’s face disappeared from the screen.

The billionaire arrived a short ten minutes later in his sleek black Audi that Peter had seen so many times before. He pulled up right beside Peter, stepping out of the car as soon as it was parked. Peter didn’t say a word. “Hey, kid,” Tony said softly, standing in front of him. “I heard you saved some kids. Nice job.”

Something broke.

Peter started crying hard, sobs raking this body and digging their nails into his chest. He buried his face in his hands while the sobs ripped through him. His tears soaked the Spider-Man mask that was still pulled over his face.

“Hey,” Tony said gently, kneeling down in front of him. “What happened?”

“I couldn’t save everyone,” Peter sobbed. He felt a pair of hands pull the mask from his face and urge him to stand up. “This woman . . . the mom . . . to the kids . . .” He couldn’t finish. The image of the woman charred and scorched to death was burned into the back of his eyelids.

Tony lead him into the backseat of the car, closing the door behind him. The windows of the Audi prevented anyone from looking inside, which was nice, Peter supposed.

“What happened?” Tony repeated gently, his hand resting on Peter’s shoulder.

“I saved the kids . . . b-but there was- there was another woman in the building,” Peter sobbed. “I couldn’t get to her in time. When I got there, she was burned to death.” He was crying just as hard again.

Suddenly he was being enveloped by a pair of arms pulling him into Tony Stark’s chest. Peter collapsed into the embrace, crying into Tony’s shirt. He wrapped his arms around his mentor’s back, gripping his shirt like it was a life line. “I couldn’t save her,” he sobbed, tears seeping into Tony’s shirt.

“But you saved the kids,” Tony said, running his finger through Peter’s hair comfortingly. “None of them would have survived if you hadn’t got there when you did.”

Peter sniveled and didn’t say anything else and Tony wasn’t put off. He continued to hug Peter to his chest and run his fingers through his hair untangling every knot.

A lot of time passed. Tony didn’t feel uncomfortable with the crying teenager in his arms, which Peter was immensely grateful for. When Peter finally pulled away, his eyes stung from the sheer amount of crying. Tony reached a hand out and gently brushed away the access tears on Peter’s face.

“You good now, bud?” Tony asked, cupping his hand around Peter’s cheek.

“Tony?” he whispered.

“Yeah?”  
“Can- can I hug you again?” he said softly. The billionaire quickly wrapped his arms around Peter, who returned the embrace immediately. Tony’s hugs were nice. Really warm and comforting.

Which was exactly what he needed in a time like this.

Peter knew he couldn’t save everyone. That’s just the way it is. But he wished with every part of him that he could have saved the mother of two little kids while wrapped in the arms of his mentor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Idk why i love writing hugs into my fics, but I just do XD


	12. Band-Aids (AKA Who Did This?)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Been a while. Sorry for not updating.

Peter felt the slight tug on his shoe before he was sent hurdling towards the sidewalk, bracing the fall with his hands. With the enhanced senses that Peter possessed, the distance between him and the sidewalk closing happened in almost slow motion.

He hit the sidewalk and about five whole second after started to feel the pain. He’d fallen off his bike before. It’s what happens when you ride a bike. You fall. This was about the same amount of pain. Not the worst ever, but humiliating.

Then he heard the laughter. Peter looked up, tears burning his eyes, to see Flash cackling away with his friends.

Then Ned’s voice kicked in. “What the hell, Flash?” he exclaimed.

 _Flash tripped him._  
  
Peter brought himself to his knees and examined the wounds on his palms. The skin was torn away and blood was starting to trickle down towards his wrists. His right hand being his dominant one got the worst of the fall. They really didn’t hurt that much, but Peter was so humiliated in that moment that tears continued to burn his eyes. He refused to let them spill.

“Are you okay?” Ned asked, kneeling next to him, exasperated.

“Y-yeah, I think,” Peter sputtered, drawing his hands to his chest protectively.

“Tie your laces, loser,” Flash said, shrieking with laughter. Peter’s eyes drifted to his shoes. The rubber part of the left one was roughly scraped and his laces were tightened completely, hanging loose, which was how Flash stepped on them.

“You’re bleeding,” Ned said quietly, his eyes fixed on Peter’s hands.

“I’m fine, Ned,” Peter insisted. “I’m- I’m just gonna go to the Tower now.”

“Right, with your fake internship,” Flash scoffed. “Bullshit.”

Peter walked home with a burning sensation on his palms where they got scraped away. He kept shooting quick glances at them every now and then to make sure they weren’t getting any worse.

 _I should probably clean them when I get inside,_ Peter thought, stepping onto the doormat.

“Hello, Peter,” FRIDAY’s voice greeted.

Peter forced a fake smile. “Hey, FRIDAY. Can you open up for me?”

“Of course. Boss awaiting you,” FRIDAY said and the doors opened moments later.

Still holding his hands to his chest to hide them from any of FRIDAY’s cameras, or just because it provided him with some comfort, Peter walked on light feet towards the elevator. Once he was inside, he gritted his teeth at the pain that was starting to increase. He hadn’t fallen like this in a long time and had forgotten how much it _sucked._

He cursed himself for being such a little bitch. He’d been through much, _much_ worse pain than this. It was not worth crying over. But the intense humiliation that Flash tripped him and he fell like this make tears spring into his eyes again.

When the elevator doors opened, Tony was waiting right there. Peter did a double take at the sight of his mentor right there already.

“Hey, kid,” Tony said, a strange softness to his voice.

“H-hi,” Peter whispered, his hands still brought toward his chest.

Tony took a step forward. “Are you okay?”

“No,” Peter sniffled, the tears worsening.

Tony quickly enclosed the space between them and rested his hands atop Peter’s shoulders. “Rough day?” he asked gently.

Peter felt his forehead pressed against Tony’s shoulder two seconds after he performed the action. Tony was quick to bring his hands up to Peter’s head and run his fingers through his hair. A couple tears escaped Peter’s eyes that soaked into Tony’s AC/DC graphic t-shirt.

“What happened?” Tony asked, continuing to card his finger through Peter’s hair. He abruptly grabbed Peter’s wrists in his hands and turned them over to reveal the torn-away skin on Peter’s palms. Peter pulled his head from Tony’s shoulder and felt more shame wash over him as Tony eyed the wounds. “Shit, kid. What happened?”

“N-nothing,” Peter sniffled before Tony started gently pulling him by his wrists to the lab and was quickly sitting him down on the bench while he rummaged through a drawer for a while. “I fell.”

Tony came back with a bottle of rubbing alcohol and cotton balls and a box of band-aids. He doused a cotton ball in the alcohol, gently took one of Peter’s hands in his and started to clean off the surfaces of the wounds to prevent infection of whatever. A small stinging sensation spread through Peter’s palms.

“I refuse to believe that you just _fell,_ ” Tony scoffed, emphasizing the last word. “ _You_ don’t just _fall._ "

“I just tripped over my laces,” Peter insisted, the tears in his eyes still there.

“Did someone do this to you?” Tony asked softly, pressing a butterfly band-aid over one of the bigger scrapes before using regular sized ones to cover the rest and moving to the next hand. Peter instantly drew the dressed hand to his chest again.

He didn’t want to admit it, but it just came out, “F-Flash just . . . he just . . . he stepped- stepped on my laces,” Peter sniveled, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. Tony looked up and met Peter’s eyes. “He- he does this a lot. It’s not a big deal. It’s- it’s better me than . . . than someone else. B-because I can heal . . . and stuff.”

“Peter,” Tony said quietly. “It’s a big deal if he’s bullying you and hurting you.” He finished with the alcohol and dressed the wounds quickly.

“I told you, it’s better me than someone else,” Peter said, his bottom lip trembling under the weight of his attempt to contain his tears. Keyword there is attempt. A couple slipped down his cheeks which he didn’t feel until Tony was brushing them away with the pad of his thumb repeatedly.

“Because you can heal fast?” Tony inquired and sighed when Peter nodded. The billionaire rested his hand against Peter’s cheek, continuing to thumb away each tear that fell. “Peter, bullying is never okay, even if you can heal fast. Talk to your counsellor or something.” His expression softened when he added, “Or talk to me.”

A quick sob came from Peter before Tony was enveloping him in a hug. Peter wrapped his arms around his mentor, raising his hands so they wouldn’t touch Tony’s back, and embraced him tightly. The last straw of keeping together was _destroyed_ as Tony started to rock Peter back and forth gently and he gave up. He felt everything loose, sobbing into Tony’s chest, tears wetting his shirt. Tony pressed his hand against the back of Peter’s head and tightened his hold, trying to draw Peter in closer if that was even possible.

“Just let me know if you need me to kick his ass for you,” Tony quipped after a while and Peter chuckled.

“Yeah, I’ll let you know,” Peter said with a breathless laugh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Li'l bit of whump in there for you guys ;) This was fun to write


	13. Crying Isn't Weak (AKA When Tony Stark Breaks)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kinda wrote this in a rush, that's why there might be errors. I just wanted to get something out for you guys that I hope you'll like since I haven't been posting as much as I planned to. Love y'all <3

Today was an early dismissal day. Peter absolutely loved these days. The school bell rang at 1:45 and Peter eagerly bounded out of the school with his backpack bouncing around on his back. As a bonus, Peter didn’t have to wait for the subway, so he could just hop right on and speed off to the tower, where he was anxious to work on web shooter combinations with Tony.

He shaved off a good hour of his usual afternoon-getting-home routine from that early dismissal.

“Hey, FRIDAY,” Peter chirped, skipping into the tower. “Is Mr. Stark waiting for me?”

“Actually, Peter, Boss forgot that you had an early dismissal today,” FRIDAY said. Her robotic voice sounded almost nervous. “So, he is unprepared for you.”

“Oh, that’s okay,” Peter said, hopping into the elevator and having it take him to the lab. “I can help him set up.”

“Peter, he has requested that he be alone until you arrived,” FRIDAY said.

“Well, I’m here,” Peter said, confused. What FRIDAY said didn’t sound good. The elevator door opened. The door the lab stood about twenty feet away. Peter started to make his way towards the door when FRIDAY’s voice piped up.

“Boss doesn’t know you’re here,” FRIDAY said. She almost sounded panicked.

“Is he okay?” Peter asked nervously. FRIDAY wasn’t making any sense. She seemed to be telling him to . . . _stay away._ “What’s going on?” He was right in front of the door now. His hand hovered above the handle. What was also sort of worrying was the walls instead of being clear like usual were opaque white. Peter knew Tony only ever did this when he was working on something he didn’t want anyone to see, or . . . something else important.

 _Oh shit,_ Peter realized. _Should I go in?_

He turned the door handle and it surprisingly opened the door for him. He was pretty much sure Tony would have locked it.

Peter’s eyes scanned the room for his mentor, and when they finally locked on him, Peter’s heart sank deep in his chest.

Tony was slumped over his working desk with his palms pressed against his eyes and his frame was shaking. Tiny hiccupping noises echoed through the room.

Tony Stark was _crying._

“Tony?” Peter whispered, hesitantly taking a step forward. His mentor’s head snapped up and he roughly wiped at his eyes. “Are you okay?”

“What are you doing here?” Tony asked, his voice quiet and thick with tears.

“Early dismissal,” Peter said softly, taking another step forward. “What’s wrong?”

“Peter, please, I can’t do this right now,” Tony said, covering his face with his hands again, still not turning to face Peter.

“Can you look at me?”

“No,” Tony responded bluntly. “Please leave.”

Peter didn’t listen. It was obvious something really, _really_ bad happened, or else Tony wouldn’t be like this. Tony Stark just doesn’t cry. He crossed the space between him and Tony. He desperately wanted to give Tony a hug but wasn’t sure if he wanted one.

 _You know what, who gives a shit?_ Peter reached forward and wrapped his arms loosely around Tony’s chest from behind, interlocking his fingers together and rested the side of his head against the back of Tony’s right shoulder.

Then a sob came from Tony and he quickly turned around, tugging Peter into a tight hug. Peter didn’t hesitate to return the embrace. He felt his heart crack when small, quiet sobs filled his ears and hot tears landed on his shirt. Peter rubbed small, comforting circles on Tony’s shoulder.

“Can you tell me what’s bothering you now?”

Tony gripped the back of Peter’s hoodie. “I- I just . . . I just . . .”

“You don’t have to,” Peter said. “But you seem really really upset and I wanna help you.”

“You’re helping by just being here,” Tony said, a little breathlessly. “God, how did I survive without you?”

A burst of pride surged through Peter’s chest. Tony then pulled away and turned back to the table like he was doing before and brushed away his tears with the backs of his hands. “Thank you, Peter,” he whispered.

All of Peter wanted to know what caused Tony to break down like this. It had to be something he was especially sensitive about. But instead of pushing it, Peter nodded, gave Tony a quick one-armed hug from behind which Tony accepted by grabbing Peter’s hand with his, and exited the lab. He opened the elevator, only to run face to face with Steve.

“Peter,” he said surprised. “Were you just with Tony?”

Peter nodded. “Yeah, why?”

“He was just really upset,” Steve said, shaking his head. “I just wanted to go check up on him.”

“He wants to be alone,” Peter said, ironically, considering he was just in the with Tony right after he got all the hints he needed that Tony really didn’t want company.

It dawned on him that Tony was only acting vulnerable like this because he forgot that Peter had an early dismissal. He had assumed that he would have been fine by the time Peter was done school at the regular time.

 _Poor Tony,_ Peter sympathized, moving into the elevator with Steve.

The next time he saw Tony, neither of them brought it up, which was probably for the better. Peter knew Tony hated being what he considered “weak.” But in no way did Peter consider crying “weak.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Tony :'(


	14. Swinging (AKA When MJ Needs To Get Home)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey y'all!! So I'm pretty much sure everyone has seen the Far From Home set photos with Tom and Zendaya. One of m lovely fans nicknamed Burgos Province suggested that i do a one-shot based around those photos, so here you go?

Michelle Jones was something else.

Unlike Liz, she was witty, snappy, and literal.

But like, Liz, her chronic beauty nearly blew Peter away every time he saw her, especially when she wore her hair loose over her shoulders, like this day. Peter forced himself to look away from her during lunch, where she sat five spaces down from him and Ned. She tossed her head to get a lock of curly hair out of her face.

Peter shook himself out of his days and focused on eating his lunch and chatting away with Ned abut Star Wars and Ned’s new LEGO set that he wanted them to build together. That could always make Peter smile, but it made him frown this time because when Ned wanted to hang out was when he had scheduled a time for patrolling.

“I’d love to, but I have something going on already,” he said sadly.

“What?” Ned said curiously. “Hot date?”

Peter laughed. “As if. No, it’s about the . . .” He leaned in. “ _Ider-spay an-may,_ ” he whispered.

Ned did one of his “ahhhs” and gave a heavy nod.

Peter was especially excited to patrol this day, since he had recently gotten an upgrade for his suit. He had to admit, it looked _awesome._ Where it used to be blue it was black, and the spider embedded on the back was also black with a dim white outline. Upgrades to his webs were also installed, to make them both waterproof and stronger.

MJ glanced over her book with her eyebrows raised, clearly confused. “What’s going on?” she said casually, flipping the page to her book.

“Peter can’t hang out today,” Ned responded with the same amount of casualness, bumping Peter’s side. “Says his aunt needs him at home.”

“Okay, I don’t care,” she said, moving her eyes back to her book. Before she did that though, she made eye contact with Peter for the tiniest second.

Peter wasn’t sure why or how he hadn’t noticed it before, but MJ had some pretty gorgeous eyes. The outside of them was a dark chocolate brown and they faded in like an ombre into a chestnut brown. The light from the window glinted off them. It took all of Peter’s willpower not to drop the milk carton in his hands.

When the bell rang for school to end, Peter eagerly ran to Delmar’s to grab his sandwich before heading into an alley to slip on his black and red spider-suit. It had the same fitting conditions to it; it was loose and saggy until Peter hit the drone on his chest that was currently snuggled up in its little holder.

The blue holographic images and statistics and things popped up in Peter’s view and Karen’s voice sounded in his ears. “Hello, Peter. How was your day?”

“It was good, thanks Karen,” Peter chirped, hopping up the side of the alley and onto the roof. “Any crime around?”

“Nothing is showing up on my sensors,” Karen said. “I’ll alert you if anything comes up.”

“Cool, thanks,” Peter said, taking a leap off the building, performing a perfect flip, and shooting a web right before hitting the ground and let it carry him through the air. He flipped again before shooting another and repeated the routine.

By around 4:30, he had stopped a small mugging, helped an old woman carry her groceries across the street, and found a lost dog rummaging through a dumpster.

Then Karen’s voice piped up. “Peter, there is a mugging occurring two minutes away from you.” A holographic map popped up on Peter’s view and gave him directions to said mugging.

“Thanks, Karen,” Peter said, taking off in the direction the map said.

When he found what Karen told him about, his heart nearly stopped.

Michelle Jones was holding her bookbag in a death grip while some middle-aged man was attempting to yank it away from her. “Let go, asshole!” she shouted, jerking her arms back in attempt to take the bag back.

The man threw a swift kick at her leg and she yelped, her grip loosening just enough for the attacker to take off running with the bag.

“Hey, didn’t your mother ever tell you not to steal things?” Peter said, landing right in front of the guy. In one swift motion, he webbed the guy’s feet to the sidewalk and swiped the bag from his grasp.

Peter ran to MJ’s side, kneeling next to her while she grasped at where the an kicked her. “Hey, you okay?” he said gently, placing her bag on the ground next to her.

She was dressed in black capri jeans and a white graphic t-shirt with a black jacket draped over her shoulders and converse. “I’m fine,” she grunted. Peter clasped his hands around her arms and helped her to her feet. Her eyes scanned his face and for a second Peter worried that she might have x-ray vision. It honestly would not surprise him. “So, you’re Spider-Man.” She pulled her arms away from Peter’s grasp and folded them across her chest.

“Y-yeah, I’m . . . I’m Spider-Man,” Peter said, straightening his shoulders. “What’s your name?”

The look in her eyes made it clear that a bunch of thoughts were spiraling through her head at once while she continued to study his mask. “You can just call me MJ,” she said finally. “Nice to meet you, Webhead.”

“Webhead?” Peter echoed. “ _That’s_ what you’re calling me?”

“It suits you,” she said with a shrug before leaning down to pick up her bag. “Thanks for getting this for me, I guess.”

“No problemo,” Peter said, smiling under the mask. What came out next happened before he could stop it. “You have a way to get home?” _Oh my god, you sound like a stalker,_ Peter cursed himself.

MJ narrowed her eyes at him. “How do I know you’re not a 30-year-old rapist who’s gonna take me to his house?”

“Wha- what? Hold— why would you—” Peter sputtered, trying to come up with what to say. “I’m not . . . I’m not gonna—”

MJ chuckled. “That was a joke, dumbass.” Peter flinched at the insult, which made her chuckle again. “I have to walk home from here. I was just on my way back from the library.”

 _Of course,_ Peter thought with an internal laugh. He said something else that he couldn’t stop again. “Do you want a ride there?”

“How do you plan on doing that?” MJ said, crossing her arms. Then her eyes widened. “You mean I’m supposed to _swing_ with you?”

“Well, yeah,” Peter said. “And I’m not 30.”

“Sure,” she said sarcastically. She narrowed her eyes again. “You won’t drop me?” she said, raising an eyebrow.

“Of course not,” Peter said. “Here, just put your arms around my shoulders and wrap your legs around my waist.” He opened his arms to support her when she was going to jump onto him. MJ raised her eyebrow higher. “I won’t drop you, I promise.”

MJ closed the distance between them skeptically until she was an inch away from him. “I thought you’d be taller,” she said, looking him up and down. Without further adue, she tightly curled her arms around his shoulders and wrapped her long legs around his waist.

Peter secured her to his body with a strong arm around her middle. “You ready?” he said, ignoring his teenage hormones that seemed to really want to act up.

“Uh huh,” MJ said, tightening her grip so much that it almost hurt.

“Where do you live?” he asked, curling his fingers towards his inner wrist.

MJ told him her address, and with that, Peter shot a web onto the side of the nearest building and jerked his arm so him and MJ were sent soaring through the air. She shrieked and _now_ her grip was starting to hurt. It felt weird using just one hand to swing with, but it wasn’t as hard as Peter feared it would be.

He refrained from doing any flips or tricks of the sort. MJ’s stopped shrieking after a couple of swings and her grip slightly loosened, which indicated her getting more comfortable.

“Do you do this all the time?” MJ yelled over the roaring of the wind.

“Yep,” Peter responded, taking a right. “I usually do flips and things as well.”

MJ’s hair whipped in the wind and her eyes were squinted but she was smiling from ear to ear. She was enjoying this, which made Peter happy. He also thought she looked very pretty with her hair blowing this way.

After a couple of minutes, Peter was outside of MJ’s apartment, hanging beside her window. He used his foot to open the window and lowered MJ through it. She nearly collapsed when her feet made contact with the floor, but she steadied herself using her wall.

“Thanks, Webhead,” she said. “That was fun.”

“It’s awesome, isn’t it?” Peter chirped. He cleared his throat. “Well, I’ll see you around.” He almost said, _I’ll see you at school._ That would have been the epitome of stupid moves.

“Sure,” MJ said.

MJ then stood on her tiptoes and have him a loose hug. Peter had to use one arm, since the other one was currently holding him up. His rested his chin on her shoulder and she tightened her grip for a second before releasing, flashing him a smile, and shutting her window.

Peter swung through the streets of Queens with a smile on his face.


	15. The #1 Most Embarrassing Moment of Peter's Life (AKA Discoveries)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HI. So it's been a while. I'm SO SORRY. I kept meaning to upload but I had another story I was working on and then one thing lead to another and i kind of forgot this story existed .......
> 
> I was going to try to get something up for Halloween, but again, I forgot this story existed. 
> 
> ANYWAYS.

“Peter, you can’t seriously be saying that you like those . . . those . . .” Tony could not find a word to describe it, sitting on the edge of Peter’s bed with one of the teenager’s many pillows on his lap.

“What? It’s interesting and cool,” Peter argued.

Rewind about two seconds ago, Peter had just told Tony that he enjoyed and liked the DC Comics Cinematic Universe.

Tony face-palmed. “They’re such copycats. I thought I was your favourite superhero.”

“You’re honestly not that much different from Batman,” Peter said innocently.

“Lemme ask you something, can Batman fly? Does Batman shoot blue blasts out of his hands? Does Batman have an AI?” Tony said defensively, and Peter bit his lip to contain his laughter. “Does Batman have a fucking best friend who turns into a GIANT GREEN RAGE MONSTER NO HE DOES NOT.”

Peter covered his mouth with his hand to smother a laugh. “You’re so jealous.”

“I’m NOT,” Tony said hurling the pillow at Peter, who easily batted it away. “You can’t tell me you like those X-Men mutant-wannabes too.”

Peter looked down, and Tony face-palmed again. “Oh my god. You are such a nerd.”

“And what’s so wrong with that?”

“I’m going to prove that I’m your favourite superhero,” Tony announced.

Tony was then across the room, ruffling through Peter’s dresser drawers.

“Hey!” Peter squeaked, untangling himself from the blanket around his shoulders. “You can’t just root through my stuff like a guinea pig! Shoo!”

“What have we here?” Tony said, turning around with a black t-shirt with _oh god._ “You have a t-shirt with my face-plate on it!” Tony said, almost shrieking with laughter. Peter’s face went beet red, which only made Tony laugh harder.

“Give it!” Peter demanded, jumping at Tony, who sidestepped out of the way, taking the shirt with him. He snatched the shirt away and crumpled it up in his fists. “That’s not fair. You’ve seen all you need to see.”

“Wait there’s more?”

Peter wasn’t sure his face could redden anymore, but oh god he could feel the heat picking up.

Tony closed his arms around Peter’s chest, brought his feet off the ground easily, and tossed him onto his bed. “Hey!” Peter shrieked, landing on the bed with a squishy bounce. When he looked up, Tony was back at it, poking through Peter’s dresser drawers.

Peter glanced around, panicked, before his eyes drifted onto a pillow and threw it at his mentor. It did nothing to slow Tony’s process of discovering Peter’s deepest darkest secrets.

“Holy shit,” Tony suddenly said, and Peter froze. The man turned his head. “So, uh, I’m glad you’re . . . uh . . . using protection.”

“What are you OH SHIT!”

And there it was.

Tony pulled out the box of condoms that was supposed to be secret, and Peter easily could have kept Tony from finding them, but he _forgot that they were there and oh my god Tony just found them._

Peter slapped his web shooters on his wrists and webbed them to the wall about six times over, his face just about purple now.

Tony drummed his fingers on the top of Peter’s dresser and neither of them said a word for a second.

Tony was the one who broke the silence. “I, uh, found another shirt.” He tugged a royal blue one that read **I Am Iron Man** in big bold letters, but that was honestly the least of Peter’s worries.

He stood straight up and turned to walk out of the room and die in a hole.

“Peter,” Tony said with a laugh, grabbing his wrist and tugging him back into the room. He situated him on the bed and sat down next to him, giving them about a ten-inch distance between each other. Peter felt the slight nudges of Tony removing his web shooters and heard the thump of him tossing them aside.

Tony then clapped his hand down on Peter’s shoulder. “Well. Congratulations, buddy.”

“Thanks,” Peter muttered, burying his face in his hands. “You’re so embarrassing.”

Tony bit his lip to hold back a laugh.

Sure, having Tony find out about his couple of t-shirts was bad, but finding that was . . . oh god.

A minute of silence passed.

“Can we forget this ever happened?” Peter said meekly.

Tony snorted. “I don’t think that’s ever going to leave my brain.”

“Can we just never bring it up again then?” Peter tried, beyond embarrassed.

“That’s going to be one of the most difficult things ever, but I guess,” Tony said, digging his nails into his palms to keep from laughing.

Peter nodded, completely drained of thoughts on what to say next.

And that’s how the #1 most embarrassing moment of Peter’s life occurred.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't get me wrong, this story is probably the most fun to write, because one-shots are the easiest and most flexible things to write in my opinion and they're SO FUN to do some REALLY DUMB ASS GOOFY STUFF.


	16. Hug Status (AKA Revival)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yayy a chapter that will hopefully help heal emotional wounds from Infinity War :)

The first thing Tony felt was the pain.

The blinding, excruciating pain as a white light surged from the Infinity Gauntlet clasped over his hand. A horrid, loud scream of pain shot from his mouth. His mind didn’t want to think, but he forced it back on track.

 _Bring them back,_ Tony willed. _Bring them all back. Everyone who was killed by the previous work of Thanos. Bring everyone back exactly as they were before, with complete memory of what happened._

What he really wanted to say was, _Bring my back my kid, goddammit._

Tony brought his fingers together and performed a snap.

This vision whited out for who knows how long, but when he regained consciousness, he was on the ground, face planted, sprawled out on the dusty red floor of Titan. Tony forced his hands to support his arms as he pushed himself onto his hands and knees. His eyes drifted to his previously gauntlet-clad hand, but there was nothing there. The gauntlet was already damaged, so Tony figured that his actions must have destroyed the gauntlet and the infinity stones forever.

_This actions._

_He brought everyone back._

“Tony,” Steve’s voice said from beside him and a strong hand clasped around his bicep and helped him to his feet. “Holy shit, Tony.”

“Watch your language,” Tony said through gritted teeth, pain still present throughout his body. Remnants of red dust stick to his palms and he felt it irritating the side of his face. “Did it- did it work?”

Steve looked up and around. “I’m- I’m not sure. I don’t . . .” He trailed off as his eyes fell to what lay behind the billionaire, and then he smiled. “Look.”

Tony whirled around, and just about fell back to the ground with what he saw.

Ashes, swirling like a tornado, moving upwards, one at a time.

The first person Tony saw was the weird bug lady, who stumbled backwards, quickly being caught by the big rainy-blue guy. Soon, Starlord’s form came into view, and he quickly enveloped his teammates in a huge hug, tears brimming in his eyes.

Then Stephen came back. He looked the least shaken out of everyone, but a dazed, confused look was still there in his eyes.

But where was—

“Mr. Stark?”

Tony’s head snapped to the side and his heart just about burst when he saw Peter Parker, still in full costume as he was before, standing up straight and not turning to dust in Tony’s arms. Tony just stood there, frozen for a moment as his mind wrapped its head around the fact that _Peter was there._

“Kid?” Tony choked out.

Peter was then running, sprinting, charging towards his mentor. Tony found himself running too, straight towards his kid.

Then they collided in the biggest and tightest hug Tony had ever given anyone in his life. Peter jumped straight into his arms like a shot out of a canon, wrapping his legs tightly around Tony’s waist and throwing his arms around the billionaire’s shoulders. He pressed his face into the spot between Tony’s shoulder and neck, and immediately started crying.

“Oh my god, _oh my god,_ ” Peter sobbed, tightening his grip, making fists around sections of Tony’s shirt. “I missed you so much! It was so dark and cold and I was lonely and I missed you so much and—”

“Kid,” Tony interrupted, dangerously close to tears himself. “Peter. God, I missed you so much it almost killed me.”

Tony wasn’t sure how he was holding Peter up this way, but here he was, with a koala attached to him, without any struggles of keeping him up.

Peter sniveled, and Tony felt the kid’s body shake as he cried. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Stark.”

“Jesus, kid, for what?”

“For- for not trying harder to fight it.”

Tony squeezed his eyes shut to try to cease the flow of tears that escaped. Since his arms were currently clutching Peter to his chest, he couldn’t wipe them away, but found himself not really caring.

“Peter, you lasted the longest because you fought it, but it was inevitable, and no one could ever fight it, no matter how strong they are,” Tony whispered.

“You probably could’ve, b-because you’re the strongest person e-ever.”  
A small sob ripped through Tony before he gently detached Peter from his front and brushed away the kid’s tears with his thumbs. He just about lost it when Peter leaned into the touch.

“Are we there yet?” Peter asked in a soft voice. “Hug status?”

 _Only Peter,_ Tony mused, and answered Peter’s ridiculous question by bringing him in again.

They were _definitely_ there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reunion fics are easily my favourite fics to write. Remember, this is a one-shot story, that's why the placement of this chapter makes absolutely no sense with the rest of the story :D


	17. In The Shallow (AKA Peter Can Sing)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a request from a wonderful fan of this work: Clara. Love you Clara, shout-out to you <3

Like the normal 99% of humanity, Peter was deathly guilty of stage-fright. In drama class in grade nine, he was so nervous that his hands where chronically sweaty and he trembled the entire time.

Despite the severe stage-fright, Peter found that he quite liked to sing. Whenever he was home along, he’d play a karaoke song and sing to it. It was fun, but he’d never ever sing in front of anyone. Plus, he never took recordings, so he had no idea as to what he sounded like.

Sometimes he’d catch himself absentmindedly singing softly during class or another public place and glanced up to make sure no one visibly heard him.

If he was honest, he didn’t know why singing was such a thing for him, since he was in a musical when he was really little of Billy Elliot. That didn’t count though, since he was so young.

Today during a workshop time with Tony, Peter caught himself singing again and he bit down on his lip hard and his head shot up, triggering his hands to accidently drop the screwdriver he was messing around with.

Tony looked up, confused. “What, did you forget cookies in the oven?”

Peter shook his head. “It’s- it’s nothing.”

Tony shrugged and turned back to whatever he was working on. Peter subtly breathed a sigh of relief and picked up the screwdriver from the floor.

“I heard you singing,” Tony said bluntly, and Peter just about dropped the screwdriver again. The billionaire smirked. “You sounded fine, kiddo. No need to be embarrassed.”

“I, um, wasn’t really trying,” Peter sputtered.

“Well, come on, let’s hear it,” Tony said, leaning against the table.

Peter felt his face getting hot. “Um, no thanks, I don’t do performances.”

“Well I’m Tony Stark, I’m going to hear you eventually,” Tony said cockily. He playfully tossed a rag at Peter. “I hear nerves make you shorter, so that probably explains the height problem going on here.”

“Oh, please, your name could be Tiny Stark,” Peter retorted.

 

 

A month passed, and Peter kept his guard up. He paid extra attention to keeping his mouth shut when a catchy song was stuck in his head.

Until the night of the dinner.

Tony had arranged an evening when all the Avengers, including Peter, would eat together. Peter was down. The only person who couldn’t make it was Thor, who had Asgardian nonsense to work on. Peter was certainly disappointed, because he had never met Thor before and really wanted to.

He didn’t even realize he was full out singing in his room at the Compound until guess who just magically showed up.

“Jesus.”

Peter whirled around and none other than Tony stood in the doorway. Peter’s face immediately went bright red. “Mr. Stark! What’re you- why- oh shit.”

“Damn, kid,” Tony breathed. “You got some good vocal capabilities, wow.”

Peter ducked his head. “Um. Thanks.”

“I want you to sing for the team tonight,” Tony said, and Peter’s head snapped up.

“What? No no no!” Peter said, waving his hands out in front of him.

“Oh, come on, you’re really good,” Tony pushed.

“I’m- I’m not,” Peter said. “I was just messing around, really—”

“If that was you messing around, then I can only imagine you trying,” Tony said. “Case closed. You’re singing.” Peter started to shout something at him, but Tony was already out of the room.

“Frick,” Peter muttered, chasing after Tony, catching up with the billionaire before he could announce his discovery. “Mr. _Stark!_ ” he hissed, blocking Tony’s path. Tony raised an eyebrow. “Look, I don’t want people finding out this way.”

Tony chuckled. “Relax, kid. I don’t get why it’s such a big deal for you. You sound awesome.” He playfully whacked the side of Peter’s arm. “Come on, just give everyone a little performance. You’ll be great.”

Peter felt his face heat up. “Um . . . I don’t- I don’t know . . . I mean, like . . . what would I sing?”

“You like that song from A Star Is Born,” Tony suggested. “Why don’t you try that?”

“Shallow?” Peter said in a whisper.

Tony smiled. “I’m sure you’ll be great.”

Fast forward an hour and Peter’s palms were literally sweating under his clenched fists. He focused on the sound of Rhodey’s fork dinking against is plate to try to chill out. Tony gave him a look saying, _You ready now?_   
  
Peter sucked in his breath and shakily stood up. Everyone eyed him curiously. “Um, hi,” he started. “Uh. I wanna show you guys something.”

Tony smirked.

Peter drew his phone from his back pocket and brought up the instrumental for Shallow. “Um, just bear with me, okay?” he added, his legs getting shaky. Man, he had no idea how dancers and singers could perform in front of millions without dying of stage-fright.

“What are you going to do?” Natasha asked.

“Just wait,” Tony said.

Peter squeezed his eyes shut and hit the play button and the music echoed throughout the room. He took a quick glance up. Natasha was mouthing at Tony, _Is he going to sing?_ Tony just smirked again, and Steve and Sam were watching him with confused expressions on their faces.

Then the song just spilled from his lips, syllable after syllable. He heard Clint nearly choke on the water he was drinking, and everyone else’s eyes widened.

He was almost dreading the chorus, where he’d really have to belt it out. He’d never sang in front of anyone before.

_Ten seconds from the chorus,_ Peter’s mind went.   
  
He finished the last line of the verse, and then . . .

“I’m off the deep end, watch as I dive in,” Peter sang. Steve pressed his hands against his face and Sam’s jaw was nearly on the floor. “I’ll never meet the ground.”

“Crash through the surface.”

“Where they can’t hurt us.”

“We’re far from the shallow now.”

It was another minute before the song was over. Clint currently had his face buried in his hands.

When the last guitar string faded out, no one said a word. For a second, Peter was worried out of his mind that they didn’t like it, but then the entire team except Clint, who still had his face in his hands, brought their hands together and gave Peter a loud applause. Peter blushed and sat back down in his seat.

“Hey Clint, you alright?” Peter asked.

Clint held up a finger. “Just give me a second.”

Tony let out a loud snort. “ _Barton,_ are you crying?”

“Shut up,” the archer grumbled and Peter bit down on his lip to stifle his laughter.

“I was pretty close myself,” Bruce admitted, reaching over and patting Peter on the shoulder. “Wow, Peter, that was really something.”

“Yeah, Jesus,” Sam said. “I was not expecting that.”

“Clint, you okay man?” Steve said, Clint continuing to have his face in his hands.

“I’m fine,” Clint said, rubbing the backs of his hands along his under-eyes before finally looking up. “Nice job, Peter.”

“Wow,” Steve breathed. “I had no idea you could sing like that.”

“Me either,” Natasha said. “You blew me away. Well done.” Coming from her, that meant a lot.

Tony stood up from his seat and walked around the table to envelop Peter in his arms. Peter nuzzled his head against the man’s chest and encircled his arms around his mentor.

“Aww,” Sam said.

Did Peter still have stage-fright?

Yes, very much so.

Did he regret doing this?

No, no he did not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know, Tom Holland has NEVER sang for us, and Zendaya says he can so sing, and i REALLY wanna hear him sing. I'll bet he sounds great.


	18. Christmas Party (AKA I'm Fine)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MERRY CHRISTMAS Y'ALL

Peter could definitely tell MJ was not overly excited about going to a Christmas party, as neutral as she was about it and how she shrugged and accepted.

“Hey, loser,” she said after he knocked on her door to pick her up.

“Hi,” Peter said, a little nervously. She looked _really_ pretty. She was wearing a sleek silk red tank top with a jean jacket over it and leggings, accessorized with a gold chain necklace and a couple layered bracelets. Her hair was down and swept to the side and a little bit of gold eyeshadow was glimmering in her inner corners.

MJ walked past him towards the car and climbed into the backseat next to Ned without a single word. It was not a white Christmas this year. Honestly, this year did not feel Christmassy at all. It wasn’t even really cold out.

“Hey,” Ned greeted.

“Yo.”

Peter slid into the seat next to her and May drove off towards Flash’s house.

If you didn’t know where Flash’s house was, you’d know by just walking into the neighborhood. There were high-schoolers, most of them Peter didn’t recognize, all over the lawn and in the windows and music was playing loudly.

“Try hard,” MJ said with an eyeroll when they walked in.

She wasn’t lying.

“Penis Parker!” Flash shouted from the other side of the room.

Peter groaned.

“Fuck off,” MJ said flipping him off. “Come on, I wanna see what refreshments this place has to offer.” She clasped her hands around Peter and Ned’s arms and dragged them to the kitchen.

While they were walking there, Peter got a weird vibe from one of the guys in the living room.

He was just . . . watching them.

Peter brushed it off and helped MJ find a can of pop and cracked it open, pouring it into a red plastic cup that had "merry christmas" written on it in gold sharpie.

Ned started to dance a little to the music, doing little waves with his hands and tapping his foot to the beat. MJ raised an eyebrow. “It’s a good tune,” Ned said while bumping into Peter’s side.

Peter laughed and copied his movements.

MJ smiled and rolled her eyes. “You guys are losers.”

“MJ, have some fun,” Peter urged, grabbing her hand and leading her closer to the music. “Come on, Ned.” She let him drag her along without hesitation and he brought her into the living room.

The weird guy was still there, but he was chatting with some people.

“Peter, All I Want For Christmas Is You is playing!” Ned said excitedly, poking Peter’s arm.

“All I want for Christmas is youuuuuu!” Ned shouted when the chorus played and Peter and MJ had to laugh at that.

“Ned, do the worm!” Peter said, pulling out his phone and opening the camera.

Ned got on the floor and began doing what Peter asked while singing “I don’t want a lot for Christmas” and both Peter and MJ laughed in the background, music loud to their ears.

“I love this,” MJ giggled, smiling widely. This was the first time Peter had really seen her smile like that. She clapped her hand on Peter’s shoulder. “I’m gonna grab a refill. You want anything?”

“Nah. Thanks though.”

MJ nodded and strode off for the kitchen.

Ned got up off the floor and both him and Peter cracked up. “Let me see the video,” Ned said, grabbing Peter’s phone and playing the recording.

Peter’s eyes flicked to the couch where the guy that gave him weird vibes was sitting. He almost did a double take when he wasn’t there, and his empty cup was resting on the arm of the couch. Peter’s eyes darted around to see where he went and suddenly he got a really _bad_ feeling. It wasn’t really Spidey sense, but it made a shiver travel down his spine.  
“Hey, I’m gonna check on MJ,” Peter told Ned, a little worriedly.

“I’m sure she’s fine,” Ned said, confused.

“I’m just gonna check,” Peter insisted, taking off for the kitchen.

His suspicions were confirmed.

The weird guy was standing next to MJ with a chilling smile on his face. With his heightened senses, Peter heard him say, “Hey, beautiful.”

MJ raised her eyebrows. “Do I know you?”

“No, but I’d like to get to know you better,” the guy said coyly, brushing her fingers along MJ’s arm, which she jerked back.

“Fuck off,” MJ said, turning to walk away, but the guy grabbed her wrist in his huge hand and pulled her back in. “Let go!” she shouted, squirming in his grip.

“What do you say we have a little fun?” the guy said, tightening his grip on her wrist.

Peter ran across the room, raging burning his veins and shoved the guy away from his friend. “Get the fuck away from her, you fucking asshole!” he yelled, instinctively touching MJ’s arm.

The guy just smirked, grabbed his drink, and left.

MJ’s breathing was laboured, and Peter could hear her heart beating.

“You okay?” Peter asked gently, resting his hand on her shoulder.

“Yeah,” she said softly, tucking a loose hair behind her ear and brushing her hand across her face. She wasn’t crying; there were no tears. Peter assumed it was just to ground her, calm her down a little.

Peter closed his arms around her in a tight hug, and it took her a second to softly put her arms around him. “Let’s get out of here,” he said, and MJ nodded against his chest. “I’ll go get Ned.”

Making sure MJ was right by his side the entire time, Peter walked back into the living room and gave Ned a look telling him that they needed to leave. Ned nodded understandingly, and they started for the door.

“Where you going, Penis?” Flash exclaimed. “Party’s just getting started.”

“Fuck off!” Peter yelled, pushing open the door and pulling out his phone to call May.

Right as he was about to open her contact, his eyes drifted to MJ’s wrist. It was littered with little bruises and finger prints and her hand was shaking.

“Jesus,” Peter muttered.

“I’m fine,” MJ said, pulling her sleeve over her wrist. “He just had a tight grip.”

Peter gently took her hand in his. She twitched when he drew up her sleeve a little to inspect her bruises. “You sure you’re alright?”

“I’ve had worse,” MJ said.

Ned’s expression softened. “Do you want a hug?”

MJ pursed her lips and shook her head. “No, it’s fine. I’m _fine._ ”

Ned nodded and shifted his weight on his heels awkwardly while Peter called up May, who said she’d be there in about five minutes. Peter rested his hand comfortingly on MJ’s shoulder. She shook it off and almost glared.

“I don’t need you feeling sorry for me,” she just about snapped. “I’m _fine._ ”

“Okay, sorry,” Peter said, backing away a little. MJ folded her arms across her chest and stared out at the bright lamppost lights. He kept shooting worried glances at his friend, wondering if he should hug her again despite her request to stop feeling sorry for her.

When’s May’s car pulled up, MJ climbed in first so she was on the outer part of the car and Peter slid into the middle. MJ rested the side of her face in her hand and stared out the window while May drove them home.

They dropped Ned off first, who flashed a smile at both his friends and have Peter a quick good-bye hug.

The car ride was incredibly awkward while May drove MJ home. Peter kept thinking he should say something, but he had no idea what to say. What do you say to someone who was just about assaulted? MJ rubbed her hurt wrist a little before turning back to the window. Peter gave her a small worried look.

When May’s car pulled into the driveway of MJ’s little house and MJ unbuckled her seatbelt and slipped out of the car, Peter opened his door and walked after her.

“MJ?” Peter said. When she turned her head over her shoulder, Peter drew her in for a hug again, his body in complete autopilot. MJ buried her face in his shoulder and closed her arms around his middle.

The hug lasted longer than Peter would’ve expected. When MJ eventually broke free, she gave him the tiniest of smiles and turned to walk through the door.

“Call me if you need me, okay?” Peter called after her.

She stopped and turned around. “Okay. Thanks.” He knew she wasn't going to call him. That's just not MJ.

Peter smiled at her before she entered her house and shut the door behind her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unfortunately what happened to MJ does happen a lot at parties. Ugh it makes me want to punch something. Anyways, hope you enjoyed and Merry Christmas :))))


	19. Vocals (AKA Jesus Christ Tony Stark Can Sing)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title explains the chapter :))

**Tony's POV:**

"So, do you play?" Tony asked casually, running his fingers along the keys of the grand piano in Peter's apartment.

Peter looked up from his laptop. "Hm? Oh, ha, no. It was . . . it was Ben's."

"Ah," Tony said.

"Do you?"

Tony shrugged. "I know how, if that's what you mean?"

Peter's head snapped up. "Wait, you do?"

Tony shrugged again.

"Show me!" Peter chirped, nearly tripping over his chair to get to the piano. "Play me something."

It had been a long time since Tony had played. Mostly because he had been too busy with Iron Man, but another reason that was much deeper was that Howard never really approved, even though they had a piano in their house since Tony was born. He still played every now and then, but stopped altogether when the whole Iron Man thing started up.

"I don't really remember much," Tony said. "I can try."

He slid out the little stool and sat down, preparing his fingers over the tiles.

"If I'm bad, don't say I didn't warn you," Tony pre-cautioned.

"This is amazing," Peter breathed. "Now get to it."

Tony's fingers hovered atop the tiles for a moment while he thought of something to play.

He settled on "Man Like Me."

Peter's jaw hit the floor once Tony started.

He'd often sing to this song too, but again, the whole musical thing stopped because of Iron Man, and half because of Howard.

"Holy shit," Peter whispered once the song was finished. "Jeez, dude."

Tony chuckled. "So that's that. Hope you enjoyed."

" _That_ was unexpected and fucking awesome."

"Language, and thank you, kiddo."

"Can you sing, too?" Peter asked.

"I dunno, can I?" Peter rolled his eyes at that. "A little, I guess."

Peter's eyes lit up. "Sing for me!" Tony raised an eyebrow. "Come on, dude, you bullied me into singing for you. It's the _least_ you could do."

"I didn't bully you," Tony laughed, then sighed after. "If you insist."

Peter clapped his hands together excitedly, sort of like a child.

Tony decided he'd play that same song without the melody quieter and sing to that, even though he was nervous for some reason.

Again, once he got going, Peter's jaw dropped.

Peter covered his mouth with his hand about half-way through the song and watched Tony do his thing for the rest of it.

Once the last note was played, Tony looked up at Peter. "Well?"

"Well I just about cried," Peter said. "Wow. You're . . . you're so good."

"Why thank you. It's been a while."

Peter leaned over and wrapped his mentor up in a hug, which Tony returned with a smile, relieved that he didn't sound like a dying seal after not going this stuff for ten years.

"Did I actually nearly make you cry?"

Peter snorted. "Yes."

"I'm moved."

"Oh, shut up."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been so LONG. I'M SO SORRRYYYY. I've been working on my other story, It Might Have Been.
> 
> Hope y'all liked this chapter, sorry if it was bad or too short :/


	20. I'm Fine (AKA No You're Not)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Damn I updated this fast. Don't get used to it lol

**Tony's POV:**

"Boss, Mr. Parker's heart rate has just spiked drastically," FRIDAY suddenly said and Tony's head snapped up.

"Send me his coordinates," Tony said, calling a suit to him. "Is he alright?"

"He seems to be experiencing a severe panic attack," FRIDAY said. Tony was already soaring through New York's skies, searching for a kid dressed in red and blue spandex.

"Play me the footage of his suit," Tony said and a holographic video appeared in the bottom right corner of his screen.

He understood why Peter was freaking out after watching it.

_The video very clearly displayed a woman around May's age being shot in the head by a robber. Peter shrieked and webbed the guy to the wall before rushing to her side._

_"Karen, call 911," he said. "You're gonna be okay, ma'am." His voice was wavering like he was on the edge of tears._

_She was very clearly dead before the ambulance arrived._

_And Peter sprinted out of the store and webbed himself onto the nearest rooftop._

And that's where Tony found Peter, crouched over, body shaking. His mask was strewn across the ground about ten feet away, like he had been desperate to get it off.

"Hey, hey, kid," Tony said gently, getting out of his suit before it even hit the roof. He rushed to Peter's side and placed a hand on his back.

"Mr. Stark?" Peter croaked. "What- what are you doing here?"

"FRIDAY told me your heart rate spiked and I came looking for you."

"Y-you didn't have to. I'm fine."

The kid sounded so much like Tony right then that he almost smirked. "No, you're not. You're having a panic attack on a rooftop. You're not fine, and that's okay. You don't have to be fine all the time."

"Mr. Stark, I . . ." Peter trailed off as two tears went down his face, which he quickly swiped at, but more kept falling. A sob escaped and he turned his head away.

Peter shuddered violently, pressing his face in his hands. Tony reached out and gently pried his fingers away, revealing bloodshot, terrified eyes and a face wet with tears. Tony's heart broke.

"Come here." He brought Peter onto his lap and hugged him tightly. A broken sob came from the kid as he collapsed into the embrace, wrapping his arms around Tony's torso.

Peter's body shook with each loud, heartbreaking sob, and he clung to Tony like his life depended on it.

"I- I- I- I could've . . ." Peter tried to say but was crying too hard to finish.

Tony shushed him and brushed his fingers through Peter's hair. "Deep breaths, Peter."

Peter let out a defeated cry and sank further into the hug.

After a considerable amount of time, Peter pulled away and looked down, either embarrassed or ashamed. "Can you please look at me?" Tony asked softly, and Peter shook his head hard to that, squeezing his eyes shut.

Tony reached out and tenderly cupped Peter's cheeks in his hands. "Here." He brushed his thumbs across his face to remove the tears that Peter hadn't bothered to wipe away.

"I know what happened," Tony started and Peter's flinched.

"It's- it's- it's- it's just like Ben," Peter sobbed. "I- I- couldn't move . . . but- but- but I could've done something!"

"Peter, it's okay," Tony said, wiping away more tears.

"No it's not!" Peter cried. "I- I froze. _Again._ I'm so fucking useless and- and- a fucking piece of trash."

"Kid, open your eyes," Tony ushered gently and Peter finally lifted his eyelids, and those terrified, bloodshot eyes returned. Tony praised him with a tiny smile. "There you go." He transferred his hands to the sides of Peter's shoulders. "It's not your fault. You were scared. Everyone get's scared. But you can't keep blaming yourself. For both instances."

"You don't understand," Peter whispered around the tears.

"No, I do," Tony said. "But this isn't about me."

Peter sniffled and started to push away a little. Tony just tightened his hold. "Hey, what are you doing?"

"I don't know," Peter whispered, falling back into Tony's arms.

Tony held him tightly and stroked his hair gingerly. "You're gonna be okay."

Peter nodded against the man's chest and sobbed quietly while Tony hugged him.

When Peter pulled away again, he sat back on his knees. "Why did you come here?"

"I'm not gonna let you have a panic attack on a roof alone," Tony said gently, brushing his thumb across Peter's cheekbone. "You don't have to do things like this alone."

"I'm a killer," Peter whispered.

If Tony's heart wasn't already in a hundred pieces, it was now. "Stop that. You're not a killer. This wasn't your fault. You did everything you could."

Peter hadn't stopped crying since Tony hugged him.

"I know this sucks. Believe me. But you're going to get through it, okay? None of this was your fault."

Peter nodded and reached out to initiate a hug and buried his face into Tony's shoulder as Tony wrapped his arms around Peter's trembling form.

"Thank you," Peter whispered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked it :)


	21. Homework (AKA Frustration)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one was in my drafts, and I'm posting it now, because I'm bored. So yea, two chapters in the same hour. This probably won't happen again lmao
> 
> Been working my Irondad Spiderson fic called "It Might Have Been". Y'all should check it out

**Tony's POV**

"Kid, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to . . ." Tony waved his hands in front of him.

He kind of knew he messed up before Peter started crying, but now that he was, he really messed up.

"It's fine," Peter said, wiping his cheeks gruffly with the backs of his hands. "Just- just give me a minute."

If Tony had known that helping the kid with his Physics homework would end up in tears, he definitely would have elected Rhodey to do it instead.

"I didn't mean to make you cry," Tony sputtered.

"I'm just frustrated," Peter sniveled, wiping away more tears. "And tired."

"Uhh . . ." Tony said awkwardly. "Want a hug?"

Peter squeezed his eyes shut and nodded and Tony pulled Peter into his chest. "I hate it when you cry because of me. It makes me feel like a complete asshole."

"You're not a complete asshole," Peter reassured with a little sniffle. "I'm okay."

"How come you're so tired?"

Peter shrugged. "I dunno, I haven't been sleeping that well since the thing on Titan."

Oh.

_Oh._

Tony didn't release the kid from the hug. "Like you . . . you know?"

"Yes," Peter said. "It's just . . . it's hard. I don't know why working on homework made me lose it."

Tony pushed Peter away so he could examine his face. "Here let me just . . ." He reached up and brushed away the remaining tears on Peter's face, the gesture so paternal he didn't feel like he had it in him.

"You probably think I'm a huge loser," Peter said with a brief chuckle. "One of my friends would definitely say that."

"You're not a loser," Tony said patting Peter's shoulder. "I've been here before. It's all good."

"You have?"

"Yeah, I've cried over frustrating stuff. Everybody does," Tony said, remembering with an internal sigh when he was working with an Iron Man suit and for some reason couldn't get something into place and just hurling the screwdriver across the room, breaking something, and crying. Not one of his most proud moments.

Peter pushed away and wiped his face again. "Do you have hot chocolate?"

"Who do you think I am?" Tony said, immediately heading for the kitchen and was pleased when Peter followed him.

"Sorry about this," Peter said as Tony began preparing the two cups.

"It's all good, kiddo," Tony said with a smile. "Let's just never have me help you again."

Peter shook his head. "No, it's fine. This was a one time thing. I was just super frustrated."

"So, you said you haven't been sleeping well since what happened on Titan," Tony started as the hot chocolate did its thing.

"Yeah," Peter said sadly. "I keep getting nightmares and it sucks-ass."

"Nightmares can go die in a hole," Tony said. "I know how you feel."

"Nightmares can go jump off a microwave," Peter added and his cheeks flushed out. Tony laughed. "Sorry. Me and Ned always say that."

"It's great," Tony said and poured the milky liquid into cups once it finished. He handed Peter his cup and raised his own. "Cheers."

Peter laughed. "Cheers."

They stood in the kitchen in silence for a minute before Tony spoke up.

"If you ever want to talk after a nightmare, I don't care if you text me at 3 am." Tony almost laughed at himself. He was such a hypocrite. He never did any of the asking for help stuff whenever Pepper or Rhodey suggested it, and yet here he was telling Peter to ask for help when he needed it.

"I- I'm usually okay," Peter said. "Thank you though," he added with a smile. "I'll consider it."

"Also I'm making Rhodey help you with your homework from now on," Tony said and Peter laughed.

"I told you it's fine," Peter said. "I like you helping me."

Tony smiled. "Okay, kid."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed. I related to his one so much lol


	22. Nightmares (AKA Steve To The Rescue)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really banging out these chapters wow

_"Please no!"_

_His hands were disintegrating, right before his eyes, again._

_But this time he was alone._

_Except for this voice around him that kept saying,_ "You're a failure. You're weak. Resist this. Pathetic."

_The dust moved up to his shoulders and Peter screamed and tried to resist, tried to use his strength as Spider-Man to fix this._

_Then he was being shook._

Then everything disappeared.

"Peter, are you with me?"

That wasn't Tony's voice.

Peter opened his eyes slowly and saw Steve Rogers kneeling next to his bed. "Hey," he said with a small smile.

"Steve . . ." Peter whispered, trying to sit up.

"You okay?" Steve asked, placing his hand on Peter's shoulder.

Tears of fear cascaded down Peter's face as he shook his head. "I can't sleep. Every night it's this and I have to relive it _all over again._  
Steve stood up and sat down on Peter's bed before using his strong arms to draw Peter into a hug. "You're okay. You're safe."

Peter choked on a sob and buried his face in Steve's chest.

Steve held him for a while as Peter attempted to catch his breath. Every night. Every night since coming back from dying, this happened and Peter would wake up either drowning in his own sweat or tears.

"Let's wait till the tears go away before we talk about it?" Steve suggested.

"I don't . . . I don't want to talk about it," Peter said. "I don't want to relive it."

"Talking might help," Steve said, rubbing Peter's back. "I've had my fair share of nightmares. I know what you're going through."

Peter pulled away and wiped his face with the palms of his hands. "Where's Tony?"

"He's out with Pepper," Steve said. "I hope you're okay with me instead."

"Yeah," Peter sniveled.

Steve patted his shoulder. "Tell me about your dream."

Peter took in a shaky breath. "It's the same as always. Me- me dying from the ash thing."

"Gotcha," Steve said. "I'm sorry, Peter."

"Th-thanks," Peter said, wiping his face again. "I hate this."

Steve sighed. "I know you do."

Peter looked up at him finally. "You do?"

The soldier nodded. "You keep thinking, _why couldn't I have done more?_ You don't want to sleep because your thoughts and memories will become a reality. You don't want to have to go through it again and again. You just want to be able to forget about your pain and move on."

"H-how did you know?" Peter sniveled.

"When I thought Bucky died, I thought about it forever, even after I woke up from the ice," Steve said softly. "It consumed my thoughts because I knew I could have saved him, if I had just done more."

"B-but you couldn't have, right?"

Steve nodded. "And neither could you. It was inevitable. You did what you could."

Peter let out a small sob and Steve reached out to envelop him in his large, muscular arms.

"You're a good hugger," Peter whispered and Steve chuckled.

"Thank you."

When Peter pulled away again, Steve swept the fallen blanket into his hands and covered Peter's still trembling self in the soft material.

"Don't leave," Peter managed.

Steve smiled sadly. "I won't." He sat down on the other side of Peter's bed. "I'll stay until you get to sleep again."

"Thanks, Steve."

Peter stared at the ceiling.

"You know to sleep you have to close your eyes," Steve said.

Peter nodded but kept staring.

Steve sighed and shuffled closer. He brought his hand down Peter's face to force his eyelids to close and kept his hand there, acting as some sort of blindfold. "Go to sleep, Peter."

Darkness consumed the teenager within minutes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I loved writing this


End file.
